All I can see is blood
06-12-2014, 11:56 AM
A glorified mercenary, tried and true in the savage art of war; and yet, no matter the amount of blood she has spilled, nothing is more gruesome than the macabre embellishments that taint the cheeks of her own kin. The gore is enough to make she ( carnage enthusiast! ) quiver in disgust, her own breath bated as her pupils greedily ravage his haggard form while her senses focus solely upon he who has crumbled beneath the weight of a most grueling disease. The tyrant is powerless in quelling his distress and nothing perturbes her more--not the spiteful behemoth that looms over her shoulder nor the lingering possibility of attack; the only trepidation she faces is that her kin will meet with an untimely demise while she can do nothing but watch on in horror. All she can offer to the frail adolescent is her supporting presence and the gentle ( and uncharacteristically so ) caress of her paw against his chest, as if her rare touch in itself might heal the illness that plagues him. With the silver queen?s approach, her attention diverts away from her sibling only minutely--triangular ears careening in the direction from whence the temptress? incredulous sentiment flowed. Even still, as the threat of bloodshed draws nearer and nearer with the queen?s malevolent presence, the phantom deity disregards her in favor of examining her weakened kin, determined to see him to recovery. However, once the cobalt beast addresses her with venomous tones, fury flares within her chest cavity and she abruptly pivots away from her brother to face the prince that dare see use in seeing her out of his domain rather than tending to her sickly brother--she was appalled to know that this pack of incompetent dregs prioritized trespassers over the health of their own. "My brother is dying and you turn away the only help that has come for him?? she scoffs, broad chest cavity rapidly inflating and deflating as rage consumes her maleficent being and seeps through her pallid pores. There is no use in concealing emotion so intense--her wrath is warranted upon such insipid fools and she would be idiotic to stop it from rearing its hideous head. Oh, the anger is present ( and evidently so ), yet it is diluted by the muffled speech of her brother as he registers her presence and ceases his quaking. Immediately, the wraith returns to his side without adhering to the domineering command of the cobalt behemoth at her rear, silver and violet gaze fervently locking upon Novocaine?s own cerulean as if to plead for him to stay with her. And yet is pointless--she knows--he is wracked by this disease that had consumed her carmine demon and nothing will negate it. "I will leave,? she manages through clenched jaws, pallid lids falling to obscure her eyes from view in a poor attempt to compose herself. The effort is futile, and she turns again to face mother and son, upper lip unfurling dangerously over her gluttonous incisors in unveiled fury. "But I will not leave without him.? The phantom has breached her ultimate decision--her brother serves no purpose within the ranks of a pack who refuse to aide him, and if they will not willingly release him, she will pry him from their grasp. |