Syren & Cynder Adravendi

{ 353 words } She had been left to her own destination, yet undetermined by the russet tempest. Turquoise gems would sweep over the faltering lands of Alacritia, a venomous grin spreading upon inky lips. The lands had been stricken by grief and plague, a perfect opportunity for her hidden patriarch to show his prowess and prove his evil intentions to a pack, and his tyranny would reign, with his child following him every step of the way. "I will always be the follower of him... He is deserving of a legion of women, but I always will be his favorite..." Her words were that of a princess, sweet and harmonic, as if she were singing a song of valor. War would ensue if it meant protecting her seed, and she would die for the love and compassion of her father. No one else mattered, only the children of the archangel.

Her dark and slink-like figure would move through the darkness, outlined in the light of a full moon, her turquoise gems shimmering in the midnight black. In her stilts were well-bound tendons, and about her paws, a delicate lacing of luscious russet locks. Her plush banner swept behind her bodice, creating a gorgeous creature amongst the other children of the red king. Her stature through the night was held in a sly manner, coiling and uncoiling as she thread the cool, dewy grasses of the plains. She was an Adravendi, but not like any other, and she knew it. "The spawn of Syrinx Adravendi, are pure perfection." She was a queen, a monarch, a tyrant of beauty, and there would be no denial of her dangerous and sleek appearance. Only her turquoise irises should betray evil, her bodice lest be holding aggression.

Her mission was clear, but to another Adravendi other than those accepted into her lineage, it would be muffled, and static. Her mission... would be to set fire to the world, to baffle others by her beauty, and for her father to rule with much power, and behind him, would be the red bitch, power exercised in the purposes it was to be for.

"Speech."