A Different Breed of Storm

N/A · 05-31-2013, 11:15 AM

Desdemona watched with a sense of detached emotion. Nature's utter fury was mesmerizing to behold. The seas beneath them crashed against the rocks with unrelenting force and the rain smashed the earth with enough force to crack and break away some of the rocks. Two toned eyes watched natures utter fury with a sense of awe. It was the brutal force that none of them could ever hope to contain or conquer, it was the one variable that could not be tamed. An ear would flicker, attentive towards her sudden charge. He twitched sporadically every once in awhile but his breath remained steady and deep. What had he been doing so far from Glaciem and so near her Kingdom? Had he come here for an alliance? To learn more of Tortuga? Or was he here on a different business?

He came awake suddenly, jerking out of his sleep and smashing his cranium into the stones above, he crumbled back to the floor with a bedraggled moan and a startled hiss of pain. bemusement lingered in the back of her brain but she didn't allow it to show. Her two-toned gaze flickered back to the scenery before her. Her elongated ivory pelt was sprawled, resting against the wall, tail flickering to curl around her haunch as she waited for his mind to return to him. He starred at her with a mixture of uncertainty and perhaps a bit of shock. To her it hadn't seemed like much, but she supposed, when considering the alternative, it would have been much easier to slide from the rocks and into the hungry mouth of the sea from outside this little alcove. She had, perhaps, saved his hide.

Her lips would pull up into a small smile of amusement at his first statement, a chuckle rumbling up through her vocals. It seemed the king lost his strict tongue when met with a concussion. How intriguing this would be for her. His next question would glide from his vocals with ease and momentary surprise flickered across her maw before it vanished all together. She shook her massive cranium, contemplating how best to answer him. With a heavy sigh she rested her head between her forelimbs.

"I was born in a pack of ruthless killers, mercenaries is what they called themselves, executioner is the term that is better suited. I was raised for the sole purpose of the hunt. To kill, destroy, and maim, through a series of events I was shown how cruel this never-ending war was. I may not be the most gentle of souls, but I yearn for peace and I am tired of death. I could save you and I have, it's not in my nature anymore to watch another die." It was the truthful answer, probably not the one he was expecting, but honesty had always been her gleaming beacon if nothing else could be said about her.

Speech,

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