A strang new world

Soon, the battlefield would boast of The King?s victories; women won, respect earned. It was but a matter of days until he would challenge the russet magpie for her charcoal wench; and oh he couldn?t wait, to see that woman squirming beneath his magnificence. She would quickly learn his kind offers were not ones to so heartlessly discard, to reject, for although an image of purity, Isardis was tainted by the selfish grasp of an inner devil. Obsessive of his pride, should anybody dare tarnish his name he?d destroy everything they were without hesitation.

Alas, that were not on the cards, at least not today. For it would be no more than the tantalizing aroma of a vixen that would draw him onwards, coral chassis swaying with the seamless elegance of his poise. Skull high and proud as the albino ghoul would so confidently approach the stone-grey banshee, extended tail stroking the earth fondly in his wake. He cease barely two metres from the woman, no care given for her comfort of solitude, for now she would become his. A pretty little thing to say the least, magnificent silvers laced prime flesh, kissed by the gliding of spinal ebony, lovely, eh?. ?Such a pretty little silver should know better than to meander unknown margin?s, no? Any beast could do no less than sway by and attempt to take such a striking medal as his own,? a fervent chuckle would effervesce from cherry lips, cunning leer curling coral corners.