04-19-2016, 07:29 AM
you're metophorical gin and juice
so come on give me a taste
of what its like to be next to you
so come on give me a taste
of what its like to be next to you
A curl of her body supports the trace of fear that briefly leaves her when she sees what he is. Too bad she cannot see who he is, for that would be a different story entirely. Though it rattled his cage when his face was unknown it did add a certain allure to the game. Less screaming and fighting though, less kicks and bites but you can’t have it all. That uncertainty gave him the proverbial upper hand, that unknown could lead a woman to stray just enough, let her guard down low and by the time she knew what was what- he’d have breached it.
She rattles on about exploration, tedious drivel of words leaving lightheartedly from her sooty maw. Kirin refrained from rolling his eyes because truthfully he did not care, of course he hoped she was lost but in the end that too did not matter. Of course she has an idea that she could find her way back if she wanted to, can she? Not as well as he could certainly, avian creatures had the advantage of a bird’s eye view.
Then the prattle delves into the sinister reaches of War and his silver eyes flash maybe once in this time. The sickly sweet, metallic smell of blood still lingered in the earth. Stretches of carrion could be found along the Valley floor and even still a random carcass or two washed ashore with the tide. These he had inspected, poked at, prodded, with no inclination of who it was or who it used to be. He invited the others to observe the spectacle of bloated, broken flesh and encouraged them to become familiar with the face of death.
When she finally finishes he sighs, feigning interest instead of relief. “That’s a pity really, Beqanna is so beautiful.” That was not entirely a lie for it had many reaches that were beyond the comprehension of beauty, still home was best in his eyes- it always would be. “Of course wings are very helpful, bird’s eye view you know? Hard to get lost unless there is too much cloud cover. I can find my way home from practically anywhere.” He flicks the idea away with a gesture of lavender plumage.
“What about you though? Think you could trace your steps back now?” He inched closer as he spoke, tucking his wings to his silken sides. “What do they call you, your friends?” The question purrs from his lips as he curls towards her with interest, nostrils flaring as he nears her flesh. “I’m Kirin, it’s so terribly good to see you.”
That it was. It was terribly good she had explored her way right to him.
She rattles on about exploration, tedious drivel of words leaving lightheartedly from her sooty maw. Kirin refrained from rolling his eyes because truthfully he did not care, of course he hoped she was lost but in the end that too did not matter. Of course she has an idea that she could find her way back if she wanted to, can she? Not as well as he could certainly, avian creatures had the advantage of a bird’s eye view.
Then the prattle delves into the sinister reaches of War and his silver eyes flash maybe once in this time. The sickly sweet, metallic smell of blood still lingered in the earth. Stretches of carrion could be found along the Valley floor and even still a random carcass or two washed ashore with the tide. These he had inspected, poked at, prodded, with no inclination of who it was or who it used to be. He invited the others to observe the spectacle of bloated, broken flesh and encouraged them to become familiar with the face of death.
When she finally finishes he sighs, feigning interest instead of relief. “That’s a pity really, Beqanna is so beautiful.” That was not entirely a lie for it had many reaches that were beyond the comprehension of beauty, still home was best in his eyes- it always would be. “Of course wings are very helpful, bird’s eye view you know? Hard to get lost unless there is too much cloud cover. I can find my way home from practically anywhere.” He flicks the idea away with a gesture of lavender plumage.
“What about you though? Think you could trace your steps back now?” He inched closer as he spoke, tucking his wings to his silken sides. “What do they call you, your friends?” The question purrs from his lips as he curls towards her with interest, nostrils flaring as he nears her flesh. “I’m Kirin, it’s so terribly good to see you.”
That it was. It was terribly good she had explored her way right to him.
Kirin
son of Khaos