SKYWARD
11-10-2013, 05:11 PM
OOC: Permission from Yumpy to post in here.
There were many cries that shook the mangroves this time of year but the one which the wind carried now pierced the silence with eerie intention. It was clearly a summons for the Sol but the man could not help himself as he stood, the machinery of his agile body sweeping him forth and into the light of a setting sun and into the proximity of the caller. The man held no convictions as the distance closed. Not that a thought could he heard above his thundering heart which drummed with some anxiety of foresight. What was it that called him to investigate business that was not his own and what was it that caused his body to hum in such unwarranted anticipation. Lips would tighten in serious expression. The scars upon his lips tough and snagging across his teeth as they settled into their rightful shape.
A white body would fathom itself before the man. This stranger being quite the antithesis of Deteste's being. The stranger's lack of blemishes, immaculate colorless pelt and rosey-tinted eyes were a stark composition to Deteste's cold, cerulean stare and obsidian pelt which had been beaten and worn by the marks of violence and time. Deteste's heart would flutter as he realized who the stranger was. He would stare thoughtfully as he closed a semi-circle about Isardis, settling onto his haunches with such ease that they could have been familiar to one another. Yet Deteste would be careful to hold his crown level to his spine to define his rankless-ness and upon seating himself would dip his contemplative facade in an ode of respect for the visiting king. Hello Isardis. He would speak, I understand I am not the company you seek. You may call me Deteste.
There were many cries that shook the mangroves this time of year but the one which the wind carried now pierced the silence with eerie intention. It was clearly a summons for the Sol but the man could not help himself as he stood, the machinery of his agile body sweeping him forth and into the light of a setting sun and into the proximity of the caller. The man held no convictions as the distance closed. Not that a thought could he heard above his thundering heart which drummed with some anxiety of foresight. What was it that called him to investigate business that was not his own and what was it that caused his body to hum in such unwarranted anticipation. Lips would tighten in serious expression. The scars upon his lips tough and snagging across his teeth as they settled into their rightful shape.
A white body would fathom itself before the man. This stranger being quite the antithesis of Deteste's being. The stranger's lack of blemishes, immaculate colorless pelt and rosey-tinted eyes were a stark composition to Deteste's cold, cerulean stare and obsidian pelt which had been beaten and worn by the marks of violence and time. Deteste's heart would flutter as he realized who the stranger was. He would stare thoughtfully as he closed a semi-circle about Isardis, settling onto his haunches with such ease that they could have been familiar to one another. Yet Deteste would be careful to hold his crown level to his spine to define his rankless-ness and upon seating himself would dip his contemplative facade in an ode of respect for the visiting king. Hello Isardis. He would speak, I understand I am not the company you seek. You may call me Deteste.