this is my home

*Taurig* · 09-27-2013, 02:40 AM

It had been a few days since the maiming from the Ice King. Since then he had gathered a few new members and from what he could tell they were settling in nicely, something of which he was glad. The newest had been spared to horror of watching their king willingly get mauled, but the scars that he now bore told the story that he wasn't always keen on retelling. The punctures to the bridge of his muzzle had begun to heal, the broken skin crusting over and slowly turning a light shade of pink as it began to knit itself together. Unfortunately his nose and ear were a different story. The velvety skin of his nose would never heal properly, the marks of Isardis' fangs permanently etched into the ebony flesh. The base of his left ear was gone forever, the remaining skin beginning to knit around the edges of the crusted, jagged wound. He didn't mind his new scars. He would wear them with pride. He had done the right thing in the end, even if it had cost him some of his hide. One day Isardis would realize his mistake...or maybe he wouldn't and he would continue to be the idiotic bastard that he'd always been. There was always wishful thinking.

The cobalt King would lie atop his perch, ebony forepaws dangling over the edge of the rock, icy gaze intent on the darkening sky. Tortuga was quiet, peaceful, that is, until the summoning howl of an intruder emerged from the heart of his kingdom. How could a rogue get past his borders? Immediately the titan would rise to his paws, descending the ledge without hesitation, powerful limbs pulling his towards the caller, hackles bristling with unease. Whoever this way had a nerve to cross into his territory and then summon him. Icy gaze would fall across the lithe russet figure of a woman he had never seen before, immediately noticing her slight fighting stance. Clearly she wasn't here just for a friendly chat. The scarred King would approach her, plume curled high over his haunches in a clear display of dominance. He wasn't usually one to enforce his status, but when someone showed up in his kingdom looking like they were ready to pick a fight, he wasn't about to be the spitting image of politeness that was typical for him.

The titan would come to a halt a good distance away, hackles bristling, his good ear folding back against his skull, muscles tensed beneath his cobalt hide. Trespassing isn't a good way to introduce yourself. Lyrics would be a low, warning rumble, alerting the woman that if it was a fight she was here for, then perhaps it was one she would get, if he saw it fit. Taurig was a warrior, but that didn't mean that he enjoyed fighting, though he wasn't opposed to it either if he saw it necessary. This woman was an intruder as far as he was concerned and if she was here to cause trouble, then he would be more than happy to escort her out with his fangs.

Talk like this

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