02-22-2017, 01:44 AM
don't you tell me to deny it; i've done wrong and i want to suffer for my sins.
Something stirred beneath the stoic façade, his eyes darkening dangerously with a trembling, formidable storm that brews within – and so she is drawn in, with a slow sigh of breath she never realized she had been holding. The deep ridges of his handsome face are wrought with a deep discontent, with an emotion bordering on sorrow – blended with an amalgamation of rage, of regret. The weight of the world rests squarely between his shoulders, nestling into the sharpened bone and lean muscle that weaves its way down the faint slope of his spine. He is rigid and unwavering, and she is reminded of something – of someone, but she steers her mind away from the distant memory, forcing it into the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, suffocating it.
Beautiful, a word that very nearly goes unnoticed, though it is too abrupt in the moment to be ignored. Disbelief etches its way onto her features, hazel eyes widened and her brow ridge uplifted – but the faintest simper pulls at the corner of her lips, and a low chuckle bubbles up from the back of her throat. ”Thank you.” She says simply, observing the way his gaze averts so suddenly and his weight is shifted from one side to the other, embarrassment evident in each and every movement. Beauty is effortless, significant, indispensable – yet wholly superficial. She is aware of her radiance – golden skin, flaxen tresses, bold eyes of green and gold (she would be a fool to ignore the shallow allure she held; it had benefited her before) – but it is of little importance to her; it is only small in comparison to the boldness of her mind, or the ferocity of her soul. Nonetheless, his compliment is a kind and pleasant one, if not unexpected.
Beneath the seemingly attractive surface settled something ugly, ferocious and malevolent – beauty aided in cloaking such attributes, hiding away the predator that lay in waiting. The amused expression that had once lit up her expression mere minutes ago soon returned, her mind mulling over his feverish words (she cannot deny the warmth that pools within the pit of her belly, or the occasional thundering of her heart – though she would scarcely admit being anything more than flattered, at least out loud).
”Neither,” she says with some finality, the broad, feathered appendages settled against her sides stirring slightly, savoring the sensation of the gentle summer breeze nestling between each perfectly preened feather. ”it is less of a herd, really – there is a leader, Magnus, with several individuals beneath him to give support in diplomacy and warfare. Home,” she states with emphasis, wondering if he had ever known one himself.
”I serve as the Head of War.” Beauty aided in cloaking such attributes, her mind echoes. ”I ensure the safety and security of our domain, and prepare those interested in serving for eventual battle and border security. It is no regime – more of a .. family,” she muses, observing the handsome curve of his face. ”I am afraid that we lack creeks and large oak trees, but there is magma and hot springs to rest your bones in.”
A pause, her eyes holding a glint of intrigue.
”Should you decide you seek more for your life than this, you are welcome within our borders.”
Ellyse