Gold Dust

*Isardis* · 07-17-2013, 09:19 PM

The angel would waltz with upmost poise and grace, excessive tendrils sweeping the dusted surfaces of snow-bound landscape; the creature but an invisible outline against the pallid back-drops of the winter wonderland that enveloped him, delicate corals combining with blistering sallow to be the only give away of his camouflaged existence. Golden bands curl elegantly above elbows, proud bangles of wealth, a metaphorical suggestion of the seraph?s treasured self-worth. He would pause, hazy intentions clouding the iris of ruby eyes; striking skull rotating as if in slow-motion search of reason, an imaginary audience applauding his grace with the slapping of eager palms. As easily as the beast had ceased, he would continue, floating, drifting, sweeping. His form a figure of enchanted dreams as mythical wings would beat effortlessly behind cherry heels.

And so the stalking would begin, eager aspirations encouraging the mature fiend to study ideal pack-lands, to find the weakest link and attack at flimsy corners. Word had it that an immature 2 year old female had recently staked a claim upon neighbouring lands, her territory that of sheer beauty and excellence, her abilities to defend it no more than fragile. It was said she had maimed the previous king, a creature of far greater era, however Isardis doubted her fortune would persist; he would find her, and he would pick at her core until she blessed him his ever-craved emperor title. If she had to be killed then so be it. Though the packs scent remained weak, barely notable against the frigid kiss of spring snow, only the nearing stench of female would prickle his pipes; send his brain into a flurry of ecstasy as he began to ravenously seek her existence.

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