flippity floppity floopers
10-14-2014, 08:04 PM
Lush and fertile, the valley stretched out before the young man, it's vibrant color matching his own verdant gaze. This valley would be rich in prey and was another possibility for a thirsty king to claim as his own. His mind was always working, ever spinning towards his goal, toward the kingdom that he would build from his back, something that would be his own. He'd learned much from his father, Isardis, but it would be his decision what he would apply and what he would discard. Drashiel was not his father, only a fool would think otherwise. But it could not be denied that they shared similar characteristics and in some cases even philosophies. Lost in thought the prince paused as he caught the scent of a lone female. Curious? and she did not bear the scent of a pack. Drasheil strolled through the grasses intent on seeing whom the scent belong to when he chanced up a dark, jet black femme who's coat seemed to glint with a touch of violet in the sun. She moved so cheerfully, so gay, through the grass. Drashiel strode after her, his steps powerful and confident. "What joyful occurrence has put such a spring in your step, miss?" "Speech" |