02-24-2019, 12:14 AM
hell is empty
and all the devils
are here
and all the devils
are here
Whitter had been spending his time wandering aimlessly around the lands of Beqanna, but neither here nor there was his mind. He was swimming through an ocean of mind-fog, unable to find stable footing in his world of dissociation. Whitter seemed to disconnect even from the fact that he had buckled once more into a miscreation fueled only by primal desires and a dash of self-preservation. His dappled frame had recovered from Winter’s harshness and the found again strength had only exacerbated his desire to conquer anything that could fall beneath his sharp hooves. There was a large ego lying within Whitter, though he would be hard pressed to admit it.
The spicy aroma of Autumn wafted around the aloof stallion, along with the humidity of the river that babbled ahead of him. All of the colors were brilliant - the oranges, the reds and the yellows spoke nothing but transcendence in physical form. Whitter waltzed through and over shrubbery and fallen tree, dancing lightly on poised hooves. One might call him graceful, though again, he would not want to be exposed to such uncomfortable words. He appeared out of the trees, dapples shimmering in glorious sunlight. He had arrived close to the river, as had others before him. Their idle ribbing would not satisfy him, so his attention redirected to a tobiano patterned female standing in the currents.
Whitter watched her for a few moments with dulled eyes. They danced over her details; the curves of shoulders and haunches, her eyelashes and the smoothness of her lips. Immediately his mind began to churn, belching thoughts of blood dripping from the lips he had just observed and tears of pure rage. “Well, hello,” Whitter states, his rasped voice harsh against the peacefulness of the River. There is friendliness in his voice, though it is well feigned. “‘Suppose you won’t mind if I join you here?” Is this a true act at wanting to have a decent interaction with another, or is it boundary pushing within the first few seconds of stumbling upon someone? Whitter wouldn’t know the difference.
He moves into the water with the two toned female, stopping perhaps a hair too close for a lone female’s liking. Whitter doesn’t attempt to touch her, however, but simply stops and observes here for a few more seconds before releasing his gaze and satiating his thirst with a hearty drink of cool river water.
The spicy aroma of Autumn wafted around the aloof stallion, along with the humidity of the river that babbled ahead of him. All of the colors were brilliant - the oranges, the reds and the yellows spoke nothing but transcendence in physical form. Whitter waltzed through and over shrubbery and fallen tree, dancing lightly on poised hooves. One might call him graceful, though again, he would not want to be exposed to such uncomfortable words. He appeared out of the trees, dapples shimmering in glorious sunlight. He had arrived close to the river, as had others before him. Their idle ribbing would not satisfy him, so his attention redirected to a tobiano patterned female standing in the currents.
Whitter watched her for a few moments with dulled eyes. They danced over her details; the curves of shoulders and haunches, her eyelashes and the smoothness of her lips. Immediately his mind began to churn, belching thoughts of blood dripping from the lips he had just observed and tears of pure rage. “Well, hello,” Whitter states, his rasped voice harsh against the peacefulness of the River. There is friendliness in his voice, though it is well feigned. “‘Suppose you won’t mind if I join you here?” Is this a true act at wanting to have a decent interaction with another, or is it boundary pushing within the first few seconds of stumbling upon someone? Whitter wouldn’t know the difference.
He moves into the water with the two toned female, stopping perhaps a hair too close for a lone female’s liking. Whitter doesn’t attempt to touch her, however, but simply stops and observes here for a few more seconds before releasing his gaze and satiating his thirst with a hearty drink of cool river water.
Whitter
ooc; oh man, i'm sorry he's such a crazy thing. he won't touch her without permission, but she will definitely question wtf he is lolol.