02-25-2017, 12:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-25-2017, 12:50 PM by Potion|Ecco.)
It was unseasonably warm, the golden autumn beams doing their best to bestow heat to the land. The sun hung against the blue sky like a beacon, calling the residents of Beqanna out of their hiding places and into the meadow. Ecco failed to follow them, skirting the tree line of the forest, unwilling to mingle. Their differences were black and white and she had little patience to stir gray into the mix- of what use would that be? Instead she watched them, glaring a pale pastel curse in their general direction and quietly chewing what was left of the grass here.
She was unknowingly killing it, sucking its life force away, leaving a wide circle of brown where she stood. Above her a tree groaned, the branches wailing their lament as the solid trunk that suspended them grew ill and black.
Black, cold.
That’s how she knew he was near.
A chill in the air sent the warmth from the sun fleeing, she smiled, a wicked curve stretching against her lavender maw. Deimos… she thought sly and playful, not yet running to his call but knowing he could hear her. Someone reading your thoughts wasn’t always bad, especially if you were a sassy little minx like Ecco. She promptly thought of their trysts, flashing pictures in her memory of sweat and body heat overlapping each other, and then she laughed. Quickly glancing over her shoulder she saw no one was near, and by no one, Mother wasn’t hovering too close.
Shriveled flowers found her path, she need only head towards what everyone else moved away from. What was once green and vigorous turned yellow and cracked, shrinking away as they faded into dust. She let it roam, stretching out before her, turning in twisted ribbons to snatch at anything near. Birds perched in the branches of a birch tree, a rabbit bounding away from a fox. She left neither untouched, they sank deflated to the ground, with nothing left but a feast for maggots and flies.
Upon finding him, black and menacing and sleek against the cold, bitter air, she grinned. Pressing maybe too close, asking permission from the deceased grass and lucky, it couldn’t deny her. “You leave me too long,” she crooned, daring to press her pale snout to his chest before looking up into his eyes. “What’s a girl to think?” she feigned pouting, flicking her tail and rolling her shoulders in mock distress. “Don’t you miss me puddin’?” she asked, and if she had arms she would have crossed them over chest.
She was unknowingly killing it, sucking its life force away, leaving a wide circle of brown where she stood. Above her a tree groaned, the branches wailing their lament as the solid trunk that suspended them grew ill and black.
Black, cold.
That’s how she knew he was near.
A chill in the air sent the warmth from the sun fleeing, she smiled, a wicked curve stretching against her lavender maw. Deimos… she thought sly and playful, not yet running to his call but knowing he could hear her. Someone reading your thoughts wasn’t always bad, especially if you were a sassy little minx like Ecco. She promptly thought of their trysts, flashing pictures in her memory of sweat and body heat overlapping each other, and then she laughed. Quickly glancing over her shoulder she saw no one was near, and by no one, Mother wasn’t hovering too close.
Shriveled flowers found her path, she need only head towards what everyone else moved away from. What was once green and vigorous turned yellow and cracked, shrinking away as they faded into dust. She let it roam, stretching out before her, turning in twisted ribbons to snatch at anything near. Birds perched in the branches of a birch tree, a rabbit bounding away from a fox. She left neither untouched, they sank deflated to the ground, with nothing left but a feast for maggots and flies.
Upon finding him, black and menacing and sleek against the cold, bitter air, she grinned. Pressing maybe too close, asking permission from the deceased grass and lucky, it couldn’t deny her. “You leave me too long,” she crooned, daring to press her pale snout to his chest before looking up into his eyes. “What’s a girl to think?” she feigned pouting, flicking her tail and rolling her shoulders in mock distress. “Don’t you miss me puddin’?” she asked, and if she had arms she would have crossed them over chest.
ECCO
[..we don't deal with outsiders very well..]