06-01-2017, 07:55 AM
make me pay,
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
Nobody calls for him. No one misses his existence. He was and is the forgotten.
Kirin probably was completely unaware of Maugrim’s presence in Beqanna, let alone their shared blood, while his mother (albeit sweet and gentle) has undoubtedly forgotten to keep looking for him. He hadn’t wanted to be found, of course. The many intricate parts of Maugrim were left to only fathom, as he would not yield to many when it came to speaking and conversing. This odd silence that he had taken up has lead the yearling to many fights when he was just a foal (no one could understand why he didn’t want to play tag with them) and only brought him discord with others now. Maugrim is short for patience and once it runs out, his silence ebbs and is replaced with rage. Many did not enjoy his somber and eerie silence, it meant that he was hiding something, or planning something gruesome (which could undeniably be true; imagining the deaths of others kept him busy) – only if they could understand that his brooding silence was a much better option for them than if his thoughts were said out loud. He had at least learned that much in his short time here on earth.
The night shrouds him in blackness, blanketing him gently with its delicate and cold fingers. Though he was not near a body of water, the boy felt strangely calm. The moon calls to him softly and gently, recognizing that it’s control over the push and pull of the tides also resides within Maugrim’s chest. The moon hangs high and bold in the sky, its silver light illuminating the dark angles of his pearlescent but otherwise hidden face. The boy’s shoulder glimmers with a fresh covering of healing skin, still slightly bloody from where it has not yet clotted. Most likely the wound would not mend completely, leaving him with a silvery and ugly scar that would remind him constantly of the smell and sizzle of burning and melting flesh.
Maugrim’s dark eyes are nearly pupil less as they stare up at the large and unwavering moon.
He is here with the large, robust stallion. He is not lingering in the shadows in childish, boyhood wonder. He is drawn to power and Levi reeked of it – of relentlessness and darkness, only illuminated by the fire in his belly. There seems to be a silent understanding between the two, controlled completely by their elements that, though opposite in their make up, collide beautifully in a dark and chilling dance of yin and yang.
Maugrim’s silent eyes watch him emotionlessly, the reflection of the spiraling comet igniting the darkness of his gaze momentarily. He is calling others, he knows. His ears flick backwards into the short of his lavender mane, his eyes smoldering with the remnants of the comet as well with the displeasure of meeting others. He trusts the older stallion and not in a typical, brotherhood sort of way; but in a way that meant they wouldn’t try kill each other – the respect for each other only goes so far at the moment. He does not fully trust Levi’s particular taste in company and waits impatiently to see whom he brings to their gathering.
Kirin probably was completely unaware of Maugrim’s presence in Beqanna, let alone their shared blood, while his mother (albeit sweet and gentle) has undoubtedly forgotten to keep looking for him. He hadn’t wanted to be found, of course. The many intricate parts of Maugrim were left to only fathom, as he would not yield to many when it came to speaking and conversing. This odd silence that he had taken up has lead the yearling to many fights when he was just a foal (no one could understand why he didn’t want to play tag with them) and only brought him discord with others now. Maugrim is short for patience and once it runs out, his silence ebbs and is replaced with rage. Many did not enjoy his somber and eerie silence, it meant that he was hiding something, or planning something gruesome (which could undeniably be true; imagining the deaths of others kept him busy) – only if they could understand that his brooding silence was a much better option for them than if his thoughts were said out loud. He had at least learned that much in his short time here on earth.
The night shrouds him in blackness, blanketing him gently with its delicate and cold fingers. Though he was not near a body of water, the boy felt strangely calm. The moon calls to him softly and gently, recognizing that it’s control over the push and pull of the tides also resides within Maugrim’s chest. The moon hangs high and bold in the sky, its silver light illuminating the dark angles of his pearlescent but otherwise hidden face. The boy’s shoulder glimmers with a fresh covering of healing skin, still slightly bloody from where it has not yet clotted. Most likely the wound would not mend completely, leaving him with a silvery and ugly scar that would remind him constantly of the smell and sizzle of burning and melting flesh.
Maugrim’s dark eyes are nearly pupil less as they stare up at the large and unwavering moon.
He is here with the large, robust stallion. He is not lingering in the shadows in childish, boyhood wonder. He is drawn to power and Levi reeked of it – of relentlessness and darkness, only illuminated by the fire in his belly. There seems to be a silent understanding between the two, controlled completely by their elements that, though opposite in their make up, collide beautifully in a dark and chilling dance of yin and yang.
Maugrim’s silent eyes watch him emotionlessly, the reflection of the spiraling comet igniting the darkness of his gaze momentarily. He is calling others, he knows. His ears flick backwards into the short of his lavender mane, his eyes smoldering with the remnants of the comet as well with the displeasure of meeting others. He trusts the older stallion and not in a typical, brotherhood sort of way; but in a way that meant they wouldn’t try kill each other – the respect for each other only goes so far at the moment. He does not fully trust Levi’s particular taste in company and waits impatiently to see whom he brings to their gathering.
m a u g r i m.