Kiss Me In The Moonlight, Bite Me 'Till I Bleed
04-20-2014, 06:06 PM
The crisp atmosphere orbited around a single soul, one of masculine bridges of aligning muscle and dark aura. No one ever said you had to be a brute to be masculine. Imagine a toned femme with that of a males posture, but a beauty so deep not even the Devil himself could pass by. A young she-wolf who goes by the initials of Sinister, a fae who lived a life of pure chaos even before her father was shaking her lively hood to it's foundations. She was, and still is a serial killer, yet not every killer has a heart like she does. It's cold inside, beating vengeance through blood stained veins, a black heart is never so lifeless like hers. Articulately toned both physically and mentally, she has the anatomy of that of a detailed Goddess. Her entire physique is coiled with a silky, electrifying, and blinding snow white pelt. Eyes that are designed with soft, rough unfathomable silver eyes that plays the part of angelic charisma binoculars that shows the psychopath in them. Like a snake she slithered through the endless depths of shadows, the traveling whispers of the wind raked her ear drums, the leaves attacked her enormous fore paws and the trees promised madness. The secrets that this forest hide were tearing at the everlasting layers of sanity this fae had, what little was left, that is. Her ears traced back, pinning against her skull and vanishing in the waves of a white sea. Her crown rotated in every direction, lowering every so often to clog her senses with the ungodly scent of heat; taking a note that there were females near. Flashing prisms of crimson canines that overlapped her entire maw, which brought the chamber to open up wide in awe, her pink tongue caressing over her daggers known as fangs. After a moment, her huge jaws hammered down; executing her yawn of dehydration and restlessness. Her eyes seeming as though they were heavy, threatening to shut and never open again, yet Sinister fought back the urge to rest and continued on through the masses of thickets and ravens. Silently parading her way towards the group of wolves with elegance and ease. Lost in a world of her own, she was finally upon them, their heat scent was unmistakable. Though, this evil doer was not to keen on a ratchet smell like this one. Unlike these females, Sinister was not on her menstrual cycle; as she calls it. Heat free, which meant no brutes flocking to her in need of mating. Their drooling, sex-driven self's were not at all impressive to this demonic one. She's one to crucify first, and asks questions later. Deciding it would be best to keep herself distant from the faes, she simply took her stance in the darkness just behind one. The she-wolfs oculars examined each and every part of their features, the way they move, think, react. All the things she will need to know later on if one of them decided to pick a fight, and for their sake she hopes no one would. Walk,"Talk", Think |