Dropping Bombs instead of Bass
05-10-2014, 02:46 PM
Fog parted and swirled around him as the young brute prowled along the banks of the estuary. Sleek form and rolling shoulders strode across the terra in the confidence that all the Olympians held. He carried himself like a prince and like a warrior, ruby eyes gazing through the mist his supple body weaving it's way through the brush and to the bank.
Bending his head to drink he suddenly realized he was not alone, looking up he saw a lovely night-black femme approach the bank and he stared in shock as he recognized her. The fae from the crocodile island! Well now, wasn't this a treat. Grinning he strode over toward her. "So good to see you again, especially without the lizards."