From the Thrift Shop Down the Road
08-07-2013, 01:24 AM
isardis
The auburn rump of Levada would be seen dipping beneath the confines of a nearby den; the pale angel had been on her tail for some time; quietly observing, though making no real efforts to directly approach the prowling vulpess. He would stride the recently transformed planes with his usual elegance, unspoiled and faultless as the phantom would waltz towards the contravene with irrefutable ease. The landscape that bound him had rapidly malformed, powdered by light flurry barely weeks before, only to alter to a valley of excellence; vegetation emerald with wealth as elk swarmed like blood-thirsty flies. Alas, the king was low on hunters, and his ladies had been forced to work harder than necessary to sustain themselves. Pity really, he had benevolently promised them all a life-long holiday. Smirk would crease coral features at the reflection, now within earshot of the hidden woman he would let lumber a diffuse chuckle, seamless lyrics taunting the woman with blind labor; ?Come out, come out wherever you are? little ember of mine.? |
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