06-01-2016, 12:32 AM
BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON.
I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
He is wandering today; something that he does not often do. He is at ease within the icy walls and caverns of his Kingdom of frost, and yet something spurs him to step past the thick shield of ice that borders their terrain so menacingly, his massive, scarred form moving with deliberate ease. His deep crimson eyes study the ground below as his heavy prints leave lasting impression, the frigid frost of a waning winter fading from sight as he enters into the mild, temperature climate below the mountain crown. The sun bathes his thick obsidian coat, the old pink puckered scars of battles won and lost glinting beneath its light as his muscles ripple beneath - he savors the feel, if only for a moment. It is not often that he can feel its warmth so saturated against his skin.
A gentle breeze drifts through as he travels on, the day growing long as he wanders aimlessly. He has no ill will in mind, no alliance to forge, no relationship to enforce. He is alone with his mind, a scattering of thoughts loosely rattling within his brain. The tall grasses of the thick plain stroke beneath the underside of his belly and caress his flank, and for a moment, he breathes deeply, inhaling the sweetness of another season changing. With the gentle blossoming of foliage and fauna, something else lingers within his senses - and he gazes towards it, lazily. He finds the presence of another - unexpected, but not wholly undesired. A male, something he is familiar with (living with mostly males himself for a majority of the time), flanked with scars as deep and as horrific as his own.
A low chuckle rumbles through his throat as he presses closer, maintaining his distance so as to not disturb him - this male of burnt citrus and splashes of teal - his deep red eyes set upon him curiously.
"It is not often that I come across someone with scars like my own; you must have a very interesting history." And he does, too, undoubtedly. "Forgive me if I am intruding. My name is Offspring. And yours?"
A gentle breeze drifts through as he travels on, the day growing long as he wanders aimlessly. He has no ill will in mind, no alliance to forge, no relationship to enforce. He is alone with his mind, a scattering of thoughts loosely rattling within his brain. The tall grasses of the thick plain stroke beneath the underside of his belly and caress his flank, and for a moment, he breathes deeply, inhaling the sweetness of another season changing. With the gentle blossoming of foliage and fauna, something else lingers within his senses - and he gazes towards it, lazily. He finds the presence of another - unexpected, but not wholly undesired. A male, something he is familiar with (living with mostly males himself for a majority of the time), flanked with scars as deep and as horrific as his own.
A low chuckle rumbles through his throat as he presses closer, maintaining his distance so as to not disturb him - this male of burnt citrus and splashes of teal - his deep red eyes set upon him curiously.
"It is not often that I come across someone with scars like my own; you must have a very interesting history." And he does, too, undoubtedly. "Forgive me if I am intruding. My name is Offspring. And yours?"
OFFSPRING
the ice king of the tundra