ardent

Liquid fire



Reinhold


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04-29-2014, 12:21 PM (This post was last modified: 04-29-2014, 12:21 PM by Reinhold.)
[ooc - hover translate. sorry it's short]

Irony. Sweet, sweet Mother irony. The very blood which flows in his veins, the very hell he crawled his way out of. His Mother would have appreciated it. She would have probably tried to throw him back in, fortunate really she was around. Though, in hindsight, he'd have liked to see her try. Maybe she'd have slipped and he'd have been able to see if the stories of his kin were true. That they could indeed survive in the pits of hell. He hovers by the edge, suddenly filled with a morbid curiosity. He wants to slip his paw inside and see what happens, yet he holds back. Logic out-weighs curiosity and he allows a soft chuckle to rumble up from his chest.

"Mein alter Freund. Blut von meinem Blut. Meine Mutter w?rde gerne in Ihre brennenden Wasser schwimmen." He chuckles, head shaking as he imagines his Mother diving form the top of this fiery waterfall and laughing with sick pleasure as she dies. Despite what he has been taught he knows better, he knows this liquid fire would consume him should it have the chance. Yet still, he finds it homely, as if he truly did crawl from its depths.