03-21-2017, 09:12 AM
[SECRET]
Kirin
that girl is a real crowd pleaser
They have that in common, boredom.
Especially Kirin, it took a lot out of his patience and willpower to lay low. There were lives to ruin, tears to be shed, mared to be fucked. Little and less of that was to be had from the confines of the forest, the Covelings were tucked away in the deep of the wood, their own little nook. It was not enough, it was never enough for Kirin. He had tasted too much of the finer things of life to be appeased with a shadow hollow, hidden away with no one to look upon his radiant face.
Removing the three children from Kirke’s side had turned out to be even more convenient than he had anticipated. The girls, (always girl children, he knew where the strength in their lines truly was) were proving to be true descendants, perfectly bending to Potion and even looking to the mare as their own Mother. Tragic, how wonderfully tragic.
They were not for her though, not really, he had not meant them to be his daughter’s prize. Kirin was far too selfish of a being to let them simply slip into Potion’s doldrum existence. After all, it was he that ordered them spirited away, such as they had been. Potion was skilled at such tasks, the children always were taken with her ethereal beauty. They often treated her as some kind of fairy godmother and Potion did not seem perturbed by the fantasy association. She held her own darkness in her right but she was still a very odd child.
These two though, he knew they were the ideal set, watched them from afar perfectly poised, completely obedient at the hands of his silvered daughter. A puddle of gut and blood also told him all he needed to know, it reminded him of Kult and he did wonder when his little brother would show his ugly face.
“Girls,” he called, they had both wandered off, heading to the edge of the wood and nearing the border of the meadows. “We’ve been terribly naughty this morning,” he pranced around them, flicking his pastel tail. “And I could not be happier, how would you like to help me with my own brand of devastation?” A pause, his silky smooth voice falling quiet, silver eyes lingering on the stained horns that dripped in a delightful way.
Especially Kirin, it took a lot out of his patience and willpower to lay low. There were lives to ruin, tears to be shed, mared to be fucked. Little and less of that was to be had from the confines of the forest, the Covelings were tucked away in the deep of the wood, their own little nook. It was not enough, it was never enough for Kirin. He had tasted too much of the finer things of life to be appeased with a shadow hollow, hidden away with no one to look upon his radiant face.
Removing the three children from Kirke’s side had turned out to be even more convenient than he had anticipated. The girls, (always girl children, he knew where the strength in their lines truly was) were proving to be true descendants, perfectly bending to Potion and even looking to the mare as their own Mother. Tragic, how wonderfully tragic.
They were not for her though, not really, he had not meant them to be his daughter’s prize. Kirin was far too selfish of a being to let them simply slip into Potion’s doldrum existence. After all, it was he that ordered them spirited away, such as they had been. Potion was skilled at such tasks, the children always were taken with her ethereal beauty. They often treated her as some kind of fairy godmother and Potion did not seem perturbed by the fantasy association. She held her own darkness in her right but she was still a very odd child.
These two though, he knew they were the ideal set, watched them from afar perfectly poised, completely obedient at the hands of his silvered daughter. A puddle of gut and blood also told him all he needed to know, it reminded him of Kult and he did wonder when his little brother would show his ugly face.
“Girls,” he called, they had both wandered off, heading to the edge of the wood and nearing the border of the meadows. “We’ve been terribly naughty this morning,” he pranced around them, flicking his pastel tail. “And I could not be happier, how would you like to help me with my own brand of devastation?” A pause, his silky smooth voice falling quiet, silver eyes lingering on the stained horns that dripped in a delightful way.
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