Cold-Blooded
She moved on gentle paws to observe the terrain and see what it had to offer her. No prey happened to reside anywhere that her eye could see, but, there was a lake nearby, least she could quench her thirst and think about her next moves about the land as she walked towards the body of water. The grass was soft upon her pads as her bodice sat upon it once she reached her destination, looking over her complexion in the clear liquid. A slight growl rumbled within her throat. Oh, how she envied her teachers appearance, but, she would try her luck with attitude and how she presented herself as she drank her fill and lied down, one paw over the other as her tail curled around herself like it usually did, giving off an elegant grace and charm despite the permanent scar that ran across the left side of her face. Hopefully, things would be looking up for her in time.
H is eyes; a well of crimson red, fire, hell fire, held a gaze more fearsome than a tiger. Muscular and toned limbs carried the Fallen King across the land and between the barren trees. He looked nothing more than a ghost haunting the ashen forest. Such a fitting concept to behold to the untrained eye. Blood colored pearls flicked to taken in the changes in landscape. Only the slightest things changed from scene to scene. There was something about a fragment of warmth that could show the coldness, something in the kiss of the sun's rays amid the soaked soil. In that moment, it was Lücien bones that felt the chill, as if he was laying in snow instead of Spring soil and it was stealing everything that was him. It was as welcome as war to a soldier, even to a well trained warrior. Nobody would want that call, the one saying battle has come to find you. Yet at the same time there was a pride under the sorrow, a glimmer of metal to face what was to come, his anger like cheese-wire under snow. He knew in his every fiber that Ignatius was going to have him to reckon with. That day he knew he would rise up, that his path was set, his King-self and blood awakening. He was going to take what was rightfully his. Damned be the ones who dare to stay in his path to glory, to greatness.
After some thoughts that continued to plague her mind, the scarred woman looked around the vast area that she resided in for the time being. There was something in the air that caused her mind to wander and her head to turn to and fro. A scent that she hadn't recognized before wafted into her nostrils, her tail flicking with curiosity and anticipation. She doubted that whoever it was, was just passing through and had enough upon their shoulders and mind already. But, Locust was always one to but in on some passerby's and know what troubled them. An eyebrow raised as she got up, walking over a small hill. The color of fire graced her with its presence, except...it wasn't really fire, someone was adorning the beautiful rays of red and orange upon their pelt. Whoever this was certainly peaked the young maiden's interest. Surely they would be alright to converse with, but if not, maybe she could be a bit of a nuisance. After all, she was always one for a little adventure and trouble-making if she could; even if it resulted in her beauty being scarred once again. She approached the new wolf cautiously at first, but, her movements were rather graceful and elegant almost as if she were a queen herself walking down the isle to meet her fellow subjects. Her eyes stayed rather monotone and emotionless, but, she made sure to keep a small distance between the new wolf. "Quite a random thing for me to say, I know, but fire seems to have surrounded you with its presence. Definitely an interesting coloration you adorn, Sir." Why she said that, she hadn't the slightest clue, but, something about this wolf before her read danger, and she loved it. "And, judging by the way you hold yourself, something seems to be troubling you." Her voice radiated venom but curiosity, staying calm and vigilant as well as keeping her graces in check due to her lessons with the egyptian goddess that she had as a teacher. Her tail swayed slowly as her one good eye stayed focused on the crimson brute, almost as if staring into his soul and collecting all the information she could gather from him without a second thought. Speech |
LAll he had was himself and that was enough for him. The wounds from the knives they placed in his back were still visible. He was an empty shell of the man he used to be. His life has been a dusty hot road on which the mind and body withered little bit at a time. He had lost the one he had loved, the one who had kept him stable over more than half his life-time. He had lost his family by the hand of one he trusted with his life. That was the start of what became a "life armageddon" - the total loss of everyone the luciferian kind had ever cared for. It was never an exciting blank page, a fresh start, or a choice, but more akin to being naked in a blizzard.
Life had hit him with more than one individual could handle, many times, if he had a soul, he imagined the soul itself would cry. He lost his family, his love, his throne; many times he wondered "When I am so cold, who will offer shelter? When I bleed, who will lick my wounds? When I am lonely, who will sit by me? When my world is darkness, who will be a light? When my trust is shattered, who will take the time to earn it back, knowing that I can no longer simply give?" He gave and gave in the past. He gave his trust, his love, his care; and everything was taken until he no longer had anything to give. Once his throne was taken away from him, he found the answer to his repeatedly asked questions. If you are struggling and your people are just watching you struggle, they aren't your people. His brother was not his brother. His brother was an obstacle in his path that needed to be exterminated.
It did not take long for his thoughts to be interupted his a unfamiliar damsel. He cursed himself internally as his gaze followed the source of the sultry sonnates that came his way, he should have noticed her approach sooner; he should have at least scented her arrival. AThe corner of his russet lips spreadm noticeably in her direction as he bowed his cranium in courtesy. Well, why don't we use this fine chance to our advantage. He thought as crimson gaze roamed over her delicious feminine form once or twice. Greetings. deep baritones esxcaped the parted lips of the devilish man.