Welcome Me Into Your Soul
11-11-2013, 11:30 PM
Claws clicked upon the icy surface of the frozen waters as he traversed over the lake front. The wind blew ice tipped tendrils, twisting and swirling around his lithe frame. Blood painted ears swiveling towards the hind of his crown as he heard the far off sputter of a geyser awakening from it's slumber. All around him steam rode upon the surface, swirling around his clattering claws as he moved with grace. He had finally arrived to his destination, his flaring senses sought out the Northern land he so desired. All that was left to do now was to find the one who spawned his very soul, but he had yet to find him.
He trekked over a small rise once he came upon an area of the land that gave way to snow that hid boulders underneath. He stopped atop the hidden earth, one claw clicking dully as he scraped away some snow. With a smirk, he would stretch his frontal half forward, claws scraping away the remaining snow. His tail curled over his back, the man exhaling in ecstasy as he then brought sharpened daggers dragging back towards him. A screech would rise from the surface of the boulder, claw marks etched upon its face. He always took special care of his weapons, claws sharpened to perfect feline points. Something he learned from emulating mountain lions. He learned to adapt, for if he ever wanted to rise to power and take hold of his enemies then he would do all he could to attain it. Even if it was unnatural, even if others scrutinized him, he did not care. Those who crossed him surely would, for the last feelings they would receive would be the pain of his dagger like claws slicing open their throats. His teeth tearing flesh. is venomous amber glare the last thing they would see.
He trekked over a small rise once he came upon an area of the land that gave way to snow that hid boulders underneath. He stopped atop the hidden earth, one claw clicking dully as he scraped away some snow. With a smirk, he would stretch his frontal half forward, claws scraping away the remaining snow. His tail curled over his back, the man exhaling in ecstasy as he then brought sharpened daggers dragging back towards him. A screech would rise from the surface of the boulder, claw marks etched upon its face. He always took special care of his weapons, claws sharpened to perfect feline points. Something he learned from emulating mountain lions. He learned to adapt, for if he ever wanted to rise to power and take hold of his enemies then he would do all he could to attain it. Even if it was unnatural, even if others scrutinized him, he did not care. Those who crossed him surely would, for the last feelings they would receive would be the pain of his dagger like claws slicing open their throats. His teeth tearing flesh. is venomous amber glare the last thing they would see.
