08-23-2017, 01:41 PM
a ghost in the darkness.
Although the dark woods are now his home, he slips past the thorny twisted wall (plucked from his mind and made into reality) knowing that Deimos will keep an eye on things while he is gone. He has no choice really, the wall keeps him tied to the land. For now. The wraith can come and go as he pleases, however, which he does now. The weight of a kingdom is not as heavy as most but it seems a burden today. Still in the clean up stages, sweeping out the old while trying to install the new. It was frustrating and tiresome. As much as he wants to get to the fun stuff, he knows this is necessary to do first. Still, he needs a distraction before his temper rampages and he goes off course.
So he stalks towards the open rolling hills of the meadow. The air is still cool and pleasant, the signs of death and decay all around him. Burned leaves falling from trees to crumble to dust beneath his hooves. Withered grasses bowing and fading. Glittering red sweep over the visitors, looking for anything of significance. He needs a release, a little fun. Something to brighten the dullness and remind him of why he was doing all this in the first place.
The pickings seem slim today and there’s no tell tale signs of inner brokenness, of instability or madness. A challenge, maybe that's what he needs. Pale lips press tightly against each other, stark white curved lobes pricked forward as he searches beneath his stained fringe. His gaze, by chance, rests on a winged bay mare and the memory of the fairy (her blood on his lips as he escaped with his prize) suddenly comes back. Slowly he prowls towards her, step by step. Duck, duck… Goose.
So he stalks towards the open rolling hills of the meadow. The air is still cool and pleasant, the signs of death and decay all around him. Burned leaves falling from trees to crumble to dust beneath his hooves. Withered grasses bowing and fading. Glittering red sweep over the visitors, looking for anything of significance. He needs a release, a little fun. Something to brighten the dullness and remind him of why he was doing all this in the first place.
The pickings seem slim today and there’s no tell tale signs of inner brokenness, of instability or madness. A challenge, maybe that's what he needs. Pale lips press tightly against each other, stark white curved lobes pricked forward as he searches beneath his stained fringe. His gaze, by chance, rests on a winged bay mare and the memory of the fairy (her blood on his lips as he escaped with his prize) suddenly comes back. Slowly he prowls towards her, step by step. Duck, duck… Goose.
Gryffen
@[Dianna] I had time so I got the post up, no rush! He also has Love Illusionist now so let me know if it's ok to use it <3