04-12-2016, 09:14 AM
± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
He’s not the best at greetings, idle chatter and how-do’s had always plagued him as tedious. Empty conversation and exchanging of words that were for the most part unnecessary or soon forgotten. He had taken to interpreting greetings as someone wanting something, maybe he wanted something now. Surely he did, his Kingdom ravaged by war and in need of new life, new beginnings. Maybe his intentions were the very same things he so loathed, now the tables were just reversed and he was the one left in need. One thing he would not be was the beggar King but if others were generally interested in serving the Chamber- their door was open. Still he had his duty and duty called for trips to the meadows, the fields, the forests, all their common lands in search of those that might need a place to stay. It was his task to let them know he had such a place for them if they wanted it, some he wanted to have that desire more than others.
Her head hangs in the dirt, a body of indigo sky coming into view as he progresses ever closer. Horns line her otherwise feminine face but he does not fear the sharpness of her spikes. She looks beaten, broken, cast off into the dirt and left to suffer her fate. The richness of her color is marred by cuts, scabbing, her scent is death and he cannot help the cloud of black that leaves his nostrils as he snorts. It was an out of place smell on a woman clearly living, the uncertainty of her condition only causes him to pull forward, disregarding any want she has for space. Perhaps that is a mistake on his part.
The next thing he notices is the stench to flood him is one he knows, one that angers him and pulls the inferno from within. Boiling heat floods his body, a skin of moving liquid and eyes to speak of hell and brimstone. Her body had reeked of it when he had found her demolished and physically unrecognizable to the world. He remembered the cries of Dacia as she ran to find him, the own push of his wings and the aching in his chest as he tried to reach her. It was too late, all that blood. Bits and pieces of the once mantis colored mare scattered without care and defiled. It was distinctly goat, particularly male and he had stayed far longer than he needed too just to take it all in.
Here it was in his face, bickering his failures to him and unsettling his stomach. Maybe she had managed to get away, maybe he was just in time. Either way he was here now and with widened eyes he scanned their surroundings, her words falling on his ears like a car horn at midnight. He stiffens, softens and blinks away the fires that reflect deep from within him. The once burning glare replaced with the gentleness of green sea-glass, smooth and softened by the ocean’s kiss. “You smell like him.” The words deep and grating, angry even though he means her no ill will. “Are you hurt badly?” He asks, concern growing in his taut face as he looks her over wondering how she had managed to flee the animal. “Maybe home is where you should be.” Of course she should, the Chamber tended her own.
Her head hangs in the dirt, a body of indigo sky coming into view as he progresses ever closer. Horns line her otherwise feminine face but he does not fear the sharpness of her spikes. She looks beaten, broken, cast off into the dirt and left to suffer her fate. The richness of her color is marred by cuts, scabbing, her scent is death and he cannot help the cloud of black that leaves his nostrils as he snorts. It was an out of place smell on a woman clearly living, the uncertainty of her condition only causes him to pull forward, disregarding any want she has for space. Perhaps that is a mistake on his part.
The next thing he notices is the stench to flood him is one he knows, one that angers him and pulls the inferno from within. Boiling heat floods his body, a skin of moving liquid and eyes to speak of hell and brimstone. Her body had reeked of it when he had found her demolished and physically unrecognizable to the world. He remembered the cries of Dacia as she ran to find him, the own push of his wings and the aching in his chest as he tried to reach her. It was too late, all that blood. Bits and pieces of the once mantis colored mare scattered without care and defiled. It was distinctly goat, particularly male and he had stayed far longer than he needed too just to take it all in.
Here it was in his face, bickering his failures to him and unsettling his stomach. Maybe she had managed to get away, maybe he was just in time. Either way he was here now and with widened eyes he scanned their surroundings, her words falling on his ears like a car horn at midnight. He stiffens, softens and blinks away the fires that reflect deep from within him. The once burning glare replaced with the gentleness of green sea-glass, smooth and softened by the ocean’s kiss. “You smell like him.” The words deep and grating, angry even though he means her no ill will. “Are you hurt badly?” He asks, concern growing in his taut face as he looks her over wondering how she had managed to flee the animal. “Maybe home is where you should be.” Of course she should, the Chamber tended her own.
KILLDARE
magma King of the Chamber
idk that im in love with this but this is what came out and it is what you shall have xD