Tickle Me Pretty
01-10-2014, 11:19 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-10-2014, 11:20 PM by Fugue.)
The footsteps of kings and gods. Ha. Funny she should say that, he had nearly forgotten that he had once been a prince himself. Yes, his father had once been king of Nadasta, making Fugue the heir to the Nadastian throne. Before it had been torn right from under his nose. Fancy him being as he was, king over any number of people. The thought in itself made him chuckle. But she did not need to know the details of his past. He did not wish to bore his new conversational companion.
Instead he rested his golden gaze on the ladys bi-colored optics and sighed. "As low as it may seem we have fallen, we have been given this chance to redeem ourselves as something far greater; something beyond the legacy that has been set before us." He meant every word that he said. He felt that he could easily outlive the legend of Flamesong Ethereo. He was nothing but a coward and a prude.
"We can not let it crush us. We are stronger, better than that. We can rise above all of those who have doubted us, rise above those who have taken everything us and threatened to opress our livelihood, we will be the best of them."
His golden eyes burned with a vengeful fire, the voices in his mind surprisingly silent for the time being. The scenery around him had become a blur as images of his struggles flashed back into his mind. He saw himself killing his first wolf, the blood dripping from his jowls as he feasted on its flesh. Fugue was passionate about very few things, but vengeance was one of them.
Instead he rested his golden gaze on the ladys bi-colored optics and sighed. "As low as it may seem we have fallen, we have been given this chance to redeem ourselves as something far greater; something beyond the legacy that has been set before us." He meant every word that he said. He felt that he could easily outlive the legend of Flamesong Ethereo. He was nothing but a coward and a prude.
"We can not let it crush us. We are stronger, better than that. We can rise above all of those who have doubted us, rise above those who have taken everything us and threatened to opress our livelihood, we will be the best of them."
His golden eyes burned with a vengeful fire, the voices in his mind surprisingly silent for the time being. The scenery around him had become a blur as images of his struggles flashed back into his mind. He saw himself killing his first wolf, the blood dripping from his jowls as he feasted on its flesh. Fugue was passionate about very few things, but vengeance was one of them.