Be It May, Be It Not
10-21-2024, 04:22 AM
Parching, sunbeat rays shun down upon the earth as it torrefied the sterile, sculpted canyons. She had yet to abscond from this copious, yet vapid landscape; there’d been more tempting sights, truthfully, and this was not one of them. Of late, there’d been far more rendezvous than she’d care to endure – however, some proffered nous and conjured an idea of what Boreas, presumably, was. It seemed prodigious, a world with umpteen domains, whereas the former did not. An unfettered feeling flittered in the graveyard’s tenor, threshing like maggots inside aged, rotting flesh as if it were their last repast. A woeful, knotted growl thrummed past ebon lips, drivel attenuate yet gloopy and estranged -- siam hairs bore a bellicose demeanour, steps heavy at every expense -- what, pray tell, will come of all this? Why had the overlord’s undone a life, and reincarnated it without so much as a fucking admonition? It irked Lebraid’s soul, a torture she didn’t dare unbind, for now; canines wet, coppery sands stuck sparsely undertoe. Template by Raine <3 |
[WARNING]
Exposed is highly unpredictable in all threads. There's no telling what may trigger it, you've been warned. |
10-21-2024, 11:27 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-21-2024, 11:35 PM by Zephyros. Edited 2 times in total.)
the scenery made him on edge. his walk was slow, worn down and heavy on the arid terrain. it was immensely hot-, his thick onyx coat doing nothing to relieve him as he painstakingly went on, treading over the long cognac plains. panting and girth swingingly rhythmically side to side as the large dire wolf paced himself over Redwater rocks, he passed many towers of eroded rock. a barren wasteland, he looked for the exit.
that was until a loner came into view. a fae, smaller than him but still a notable in size: draped in colors he never felt more irked by. surely, they could make up for their distasteful palette with something else? so quick to judge, the gleam in his orbs said it all yet otherwise his visage was stoic as if nothing lived inside the hallow brute. "Where is the end?" he asked with a baritone voice, wet nose flaring as his panting subsided, ears erected and swiveling atop his broad crown. thick jowls hung opened, his fangs peaking through as his glossy eyes fixated on the wolf ahead. standing in their way, imposing their path as awaited a response. his scut hung loosely between his taut flanks, his body itching for movement under the baking sun.
"talk" - "think"
that was until a loner came into view. a fae, smaller than him but still a notable in size: draped in colors he never felt more irked by. surely, they could make up for their distasteful palette with something else? so quick to judge, the gleam in his orbs said it all yet otherwise his visage was stoic as if nothing lived inside the hallow brute. "Where is the end?" he asked with a baritone voice, wet nose flaring as his panting subsided, ears erected and swiveling atop his broad crown. thick jowls hung opened, his fangs peaking through as his glossy eyes fixated on the wolf ahead. standing in their way, imposing their path as awaited a response. his scut hung loosely between his taut flanks, his body itching for movement under the baking sun.
10-28-2024, 06:10 PM
Not an ounce of sentiment, fear, could negate the graveyard’s vocations; the sun was harsh, baking the coppery earth in a whisk of tawny tenne, golden flasks and blonde sienna. Heavy steps dared to perforate porous rock, but was soon cordoned by a dire –– tousled jacket bristled like wildfire as if to impose a demoniac demeanour, stony and absolute. A robe of ink and sleet, tintless eyes pulled taut beneath the broiling beams. Then end, they ask? My, if it weren’t for the man’s forthright behest and intents to block her fucking path, she may’ve sought otherwise on what she was about to do next. Lebraid’s skin tingled with a woeful, unpredictable intensity, bludgeoned by that stark, impassive profile as she dared to gore their very soul with a hardened glare. There was no dismay, no angst, no feeling. Here, reeking from the hellion’s breath, a foul of slaver strung like goo from those wet, velvety lips, head lumbering low in a most devious practice as it crooked to ogle him. “I could ask you the same thing,” It billowed in stannic tones, “Move.” She wouldn’t ask again, and if they decided otherwise, Lebraid had no problem showing them. Churlish, throaty growls ricocheted with pallid intention, muscles tense as the gyves of volatility grew spent. Would they abide? Template by Raine <3 |
[WARNING]
Exposed is highly unpredictable in all threads. There's no telling what may trigger it, you've been warned. |