06-21-2016, 08:18 AM
± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
The dog speaks and the King knows he will let him. A display of foolish youth, a boy having a tantrum and Killdare remains still as the growls wash over him. Every snarl curls past his flesh and sizzles when pressed near enough the skin until it is no more than smoke to the Chamber leader. He listens to the fit as it escalates and the only hint of reaction is the way the fire burns brighter within him, scorches the brimstone until it threatens to lose- and still he stands idle.
Even when the beast crouches low, does Killdare only give him the satisfaction of his eyes, two blazing holes that follow each shift of the wolf’s weight with care. He had done this so many times before, perhaps not in this land but his Father’s teachings were not so dead. Acid spills heavily from the jagged snarl that spits like a cornered viper and the words fall short of the pain they might have once inflicted. “That is the mistake Lupei, Dacia is a woman grown.” he returns evenly, for he had once misjudged her youth as a sign of misunderstanding. He had hardly given the girl a chance to even accept the fact that he had never promised her monogamy.
Killdare had offered no singularity in his love, he had simply offered his love, which in itself was a great deal of loyalty and meaning had she chosen to see it through. He had made no promise of riches or thrones but once that notion had crossed into realisation in her mind, well, it seemed to him she had never truly returned his feelings after all. As it stood, with the display of raised hackles before him, no doubt that Dacia had known Lupei would come- his love had never been enough for the color-changing woman. For a moment his skin roils at mention of Astri, as if he could ever forget the friendship of the mantis green mare. As if he could ever forget (now that it was much too late) that he had once loved her as well and never said the words.
What he dislikes most is the vision in blue that curls up to him, far too close he thinks but he does not say it out loud. What he dislikes most are the names and taunts that fall unbidden from the dagger like teeth that form them. A pot calling a kettle black, a whore, when no doubt Lupei had his fair share of rolls in the hay. It was typical for a man to emblazon the scarlet letter against the woman’s chest wasn’t it? Lupei did not prove him wrong in that respect. “I’m sure you’ve had many, more than I dare count.” Killdare did not find shame in being choosy with the spread of his lines, the spilling of his seed but no doubt there would still be men in the world that would label him prude, or unmanly for it.
And when the warnings end, when the boy has had his word and his game the Chamber King answers with his own. “Oh, I have listened to your display Lupei, now hear me.” he called, as instead of burning outright the liquid began to flow from his hooves, trickling towards the wolf with hunger. Below the ground shook, quaked, as the turf buckled in places and spouted forth the Earth’s fire like a spout. “You have overstayed your welcome Lupei, and are henceforth banished from the Chamber. Furthermore, Dacia can share your unwelcome. I am sorry to learn that her love had a price, came with want. Leave this place.”
Even when the beast crouches low, does Killdare only give him the satisfaction of his eyes, two blazing holes that follow each shift of the wolf’s weight with care. He had done this so many times before, perhaps not in this land but his Father’s teachings were not so dead. Acid spills heavily from the jagged snarl that spits like a cornered viper and the words fall short of the pain they might have once inflicted. “That is the mistake Lupei, Dacia is a woman grown.” he returns evenly, for he had once misjudged her youth as a sign of misunderstanding. He had hardly given the girl a chance to even accept the fact that he had never promised her monogamy.
Killdare had offered no singularity in his love, he had simply offered his love, which in itself was a great deal of loyalty and meaning had she chosen to see it through. He had made no promise of riches or thrones but once that notion had crossed into realisation in her mind, well, it seemed to him she had never truly returned his feelings after all. As it stood, with the display of raised hackles before him, no doubt that Dacia had known Lupei would come- his love had never been enough for the color-changing woman. For a moment his skin roils at mention of Astri, as if he could ever forget the friendship of the mantis green mare. As if he could ever forget (now that it was much too late) that he had once loved her as well and never said the words.
What he dislikes most is the vision in blue that curls up to him, far too close he thinks but he does not say it out loud. What he dislikes most are the names and taunts that fall unbidden from the dagger like teeth that form them. A pot calling a kettle black, a whore, when no doubt Lupei had his fair share of rolls in the hay. It was typical for a man to emblazon the scarlet letter against the woman’s chest wasn’t it? Lupei did not prove him wrong in that respect. “I’m sure you’ve had many, more than I dare count.” Killdare did not find shame in being choosy with the spread of his lines, the spilling of his seed but no doubt there would still be men in the world that would label him prude, or unmanly for it.
And when the warnings end, when the boy has had his word and his game the Chamber King answers with his own. “Oh, I have listened to your display Lupei, now hear me.” he called, as instead of burning outright the liquid began to flow from his hooves, trickling towards the wolf with hunger. Below the ground shook, quaked, as the turf buckled in places and spouted forth the Earth’s fire like a spout. “You have overstayed your welcome Lupei, and are henceforth banished from the Chamber. Furthermore, Dacia can share your unwelcome. I am sorry to learn that her love had a price, came with want. Leave this place.”
KILLDARE
magma King of the Chamber
