09-02-2021, 04:58 PM
Obscene is built like a wall, solid and unwavering. The leaner stallion gives him credit for it; the hardened skin that encases him is only fitting for the most fearsome of rulers and it is clear that Obscene does not find his ego bruised in anyway. Perhaps the two are the same in this light - too haughty and prideful to even consider each other as threats. The thought brings a simple smirk to one corner of Skandar’s indigo mouth but it quickly fades back into a thin, pressed line.
The black stallion steps into the cold stream beside Skandar and for the first time since his arrival, the skinwalker allows the tension in his spine to dissipate just slightly. Skandar’s burning orange gaze slowly flickers towards Obscene as he trails off, hinting at something far more treacherous beneath his request. Skandar’s brows twitch together in a furrow, interested. He takes a moment - a quiet inhale and fogged breath in its exhale - and gently tosses his head. “Consider it done.” He understood the underlying message (and perhaps Obscene didn’t intend for murder to be now on the forefront of Skandar’s mind, but it is already there despite it) and accepts it without question.
Skandar believes their conversation has come to an end, concluded with a silent agreement that both stallions have come to understand. His teeth press together, turning his gaze back to the one beside him when he ominously states that there’s more. Orange irises meet blood red, raging depths churning within them both. The pregnant pause between them is billowing and electric, callous and jarring.
“Something?” Skandar repeats, his voice as thin as the air around them. He clears his throat, tilting his head slightly away from Obscene. “Or someone?” He nearly smiles at him, but it stays beneath the surface. Skandar’s skin shivers slightly in its grotesque way, like slices of it are fluttering, but it’s not from the cold. He wonders what Aela has revealed to Obscene and if it is why the black and gold stallion regards him with such fire in his eyes.
The black stallion steps into the cold stream beside Skandar and for the first time since his arrival, the skinwalker allows the tension in his spine to dissipate just slightly. Skandar’s burning orange gaze slowly flickers towards Obscene as he trails off, hinting at something far more treacherous beneath his request. Skandar’s brows twitch together in a furrow, interested. He takes a moment - a quiet inhale and fogged breath in its exhale - and gently tosses his head. “Consider it done.” He understood the underlying message (and perhaps Obscene didn’t intend for murder to be now on the forefront of Skandar’s mind, but it is already there despite it) and accepts it without question.
Skandar believes their conversation has come to an end, concluded with a silent agreement that both stallions have come to understand. His teeth press together, turning his gaze back to the one beside him when he ominously states that there’s more. Orange irises meet blood red, raging depths churning within them both. The pregnant pause between them is billowing and electric, callous and jarring.
“Something?” Skandar repeats, his voice as thin as the air around them. He clears his throat, tilting his head slightly away from Obscene. “Or someone?” He nearly smiles at him, but it stays beneath the surface. Skandar’s skin shivers slightly in its grotesque way, like slices of it are fluttering, but it’s not from the cold. He wonders what Aela has revealed to Obscene and if it is why the black and gold stallion regards him with such fire in his eyes.
skandar
i want to be the bullet
that brings you to your knees
@