10-19-2017, 08:46 PM
Gunsynd
(last night i got high
as your expectations)
There were many things he could not remember: names, faces, places, smells. He knew he should remember. The knowledge, or the emptiness, was enough to make his brain ache. But one thing he did know was that she (the nameless one with the condescending manor) had crossed him and he had promised to return the favor.
The lack of memories left his mind unclouded and allowed him to lock onto her scent and remember her face and form clearly. He had nothing to do but to follow her until an opportunity presented itself. Of course she would never know she was being followed - he was the perfect stalker. He was able to make himself one with the atmosphere - no scent, no form. He could be like the cheshire cat; no more than a pair of dark eyes hiding among the branches of a tree. Perhaps she would feel his constant gaze. Would it make her paranoid? Would she lose her mind? Or would she write it off and be completely surprised when his haunting came to a close? He isn't sure which he would prefer. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to make the twigs around her snap or to breathe into her ear, just to make the haunting complete. But he holds himself back and bides his time. Something is bound to happen.
He has been waiting, formless, above where she hides herself in the ground. He notices the green male approaching - notes his powers not unlike his own. The name he calls out does not interest him (he does not know it belongs to his prey) until he feels the vibrations that she causes in the earth. So... her name was Epithet. Like the cat, he smiles and then vanishes once more.
The lack of memories left his mind unclouded and allowed him to lock onto her scent and remember her face and form clearly. He had nothing to do but to follow her until an opportunity presented itself. Of course she would never know she was being followed - he was the perfect stalker. He was able to make himself one with the atmosphere - no scent, no form. He could be like the cheshire cat; no more than a pair of dark eyes hiding among the branches of a tree. Perhaps she would feel his constant gaze. Would it make her paranoid? Would she lose her mind? Or would she write it off and be completely surprised when his haunting came to a close? He isn't sure which he would prefer. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to make the twigs around her snap or to breathe into her ear, just to make the haunting complete. But he holds himself back and bides his time. Something is bound to happen.
He has been waiting, formless, above where she hides herself in the ground. He notices the green male approaching - notes his powers not unlike his own. The name he calls out does not interest him (he does not know it belongs to his prey) until he feels the vibrations that she causes in the earth. So... her name was Epithet. Like the cat, he smiles and then vanishes once more.
~spooky gunsynd~
@[Epithet] @[Wyrm]