01-24-2016, 03:16 AM
Liselle is no stranger to the snap of twigs, or the rustle of the undergrowth. The Mountains are full of sound within the hollow silence. She had never been afraid of the Mountain’s hidden companions; she is one of them, afterall. She has grown accustom to the heavy breath of fog against her neck. She wears the lowlying mists as if she were born of them. She is as lacking in refinement as this jagged mountainside, but she is still, somehow, beautiful. But, there is something ugly afoot.
Her humming gives her position beneath the pines away to a stallion whose scent she has never picked up before until now. There have been many who have sought to make the Mountain’s theirs. Some have succeeded in their endevors, but never for very long. All this time spent lingering here, she has managed to go unclaimed.
That is, until this very moment.
The first thing she notices are his eyes, malevolent red, and then a swift flash of yellowed teeth. She squeals and strikes out at the air before her. She is miffed, but not enough to seek recompense.
She has virtually no experience with the opposite sex. She does know that her mother has waited most of her life to be remembered by those she had given all to. She does know the anguish those men have caused, even if Locklyn tried to hide it. But, she doesn’t quite understand. Needless to say, she isn’t sure how to react to being claimed, so she shuffles away a few steps, but doesn’t flee entirely.
“Aren’t you charming.” she says, and her voice seems suprisingly genuine in spite of the sarcasm. She steps closer with a smile that is either simpering, or coy, or something else entirely. “May I know my captor’s name?” she asks with a bat of her doe eyes.
Her humming gives her position beneath the pines away to a stallion whose scent she has never picked up before until now. There have been many who have sought to make the Mountain’s theirs. Some have succeeded in their endevors, but never for very long. All this time spent lingering here, she has managed to go unclaimed.
That is, until this very moment.
The first thing she notices are his eyes, malevolent red, and then a swift flash of yellowed teeth. She squeals and strikes out at the air before her. She is miffed, but not enough to seek recompense.
She has virtually no experience with the opposite sex. She does know that her mother has waited most of her life to be remembered by those she had given all to. She does know the anguish those men have caused, even if Locklyn tried to hide it. But, she doesn’t quite understand. Needless to say, she isn’t sure how to react to being claimed, so she shuffles away a few steps, but doesn’t flee entirely.
“Aren’t you charming.” she says, and her voice seems suprisingly genuine in spite of the sarcasm. She steps closer with a smile that is either simpering, or coy, or something else entirely. “May I know my captor’s name?” she asks with a bat of her doe eyes.