06-27-2017, 06:59 PM
god make me pay,
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
The salt from his swim has long since dried on his two-toned skin, the tendrils of his pearlescent mane crisp against the darker slopes of his neck and face. The dense foliage of the deep forest provides him shade, the sunlight filtering through the branches and bracken to splay patterns of gold upon him. He is sleeping, resting peacefully within what he believes to be a rather secluded and hidden area (it has been that way since he had met the lovely Kharon), a little piece of solitude that has become a kind of haven to the now young stallion. His swim and the long use of his abilities during that time have left him weary, as well as slightly less cautious as he normally would be.
That is why, when there is the softest, most velvetiness touch upon his withers, he reacts most aggressively.
His pale eyelids pull back in a flash, revealing dark and near pupil-less eyes. His dark evergreen ears are already disappearing into his tangled and dirty mane, pale lips curling back as a snarl finds him. He snakes his head towards her, nearly reaching out to run his teeth solidly against the curvature of her throat, when his eyes notice the soft lavender grey that is there, melting into creamy, wintry white. Maugrim brings his chin to his chest immediately, reeling back his neck to gaze at her with a curious, empty black stare. Ears are still hidden within the coarse hairs of his mane, but the anger has receded from him.
Oh this was all too interesting.
Standing before him was a little Kharon, matching perfectly in color and build. Of course she is female, all too noticeable by the delicate sloping features of her hips and withers, the gentle lines that caress her face. Maugrim snorts amusedly. How is it that trouble always finds him? He did not ask for her to find him, but she has; and Maugrim rarely misses out on an opportunity such as this.
As he was growing older and beginning to interact with others more regularly, the once solitary and feral colt now has begun to use his exchanges for his own entertainment or power. Before, nothing would have stopped him from slicing her supple skin with his teeth, but now, he hesitates – pausing, to quickly think about his situation and how it could be used best for him. “You startled me,” he admits, his voice forgiving but like iron, steely and cold. He still needs to perfect his tone, but he is much better at softening his features and appearing empathetic now. “What has you searching the jungle? Or was it me you were looking for?”
A smile, flowing easily on his pale lips that crack with the saltwater that has dried there.
“I’m Maugrim.” A pause. Brows rise curiously, and then, a little breathlessly: “You’re…a princess, aren’t you?” Of course she was. Her scent was sickly sweet with the smell of Kharon, (kind of odd, actually) but the two were obviously related in someway.
That is why, when there is the softest, most velvetiness touch upon his withers, he reacts most aggressively.
His pale eyelids pull back in a flash, revealing dark and near pupil-less eyes. His dark evergreen ears are already disappearing into his tangled and dirty mane, pale lips curling back as a snarl finds him. He snakes his head towards her, nearly reaching out to run his teeth solidly against the curvature of her throat, when his eyes notice the soft lavender grey that is there, melting into creamy, wintry white. Maugrim brings his chin to his chest immediately, reeling back his neck to gaze at her with a curious, empty black stare. Ears are still hidden within the coarse hairs of his mane, but the anger has receded from him.
Oh this was all too interesting.
Standing before him was a little Kharon, matching perfectly in color and build. Of course she is female, all too noticeable by the delicate sloping features of her hips and withers, the gentle lines that caress her face. Maugrim snorts amusedly. How is it that trouble always finds him? He did not ask for her to find him, but she has; and Maugrim rarely misses out on an opportunity such as this.
As he was growing older and beginning to interact with others more regularly, the once solitary and feral colt now has begun to use his exchanges for his own entertainment or power. Before, nothing would have stopped him from slicing her supple skin with his teeth, but now, he hesitates – pausing, to quickly think about his situation and how it could be used best for him. “You startled me,” he admits, his voice forgiving but like iron, steely and cold. He still needs to perfect his tone, but he is much better at softening his features and appearing empathetic now. “What has you searching the jungle? Or was it me you were looking for?”
A smile, flowing easily on his pale lips that crack with the saltwater that has dried there.
“I’m Maugrim.” A pause. Brows rise curiously, and then, a little breathlessly: “You’re…a princess, aren’t you?” Of course she was. Her scent was sickly sweet with the smell of Kharon, (kind of odd, actually) but the two were obviously related in someway.
m a u g r i m.
@[Kylin]