carouse me
06-19-2014, 10:38 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-19-2014, 10:41 AM by Fiamette.)
She is exploring, her mind is lost in thought and wonder as she moves into the unfamiliar praire with ease. She slithers among the foliage on silent paws, volcanic glare sliding from left to right as she burns everything that crosses her vision with a spiteful glance. Emotion is vacant from her features although she is painfully bored, elongated tail flicking irritably behind her swaying hips as she presses her bodice into the base of a tree. Nostrils quiver as the scent of another is carried in the breeze, and she hopes some sort of excitement will cross her path during this little adventure. She'd hate to have her day completely wasted, so if this stranger did not seek her out on their own, she would pursue them out of boredom and curiosity. "speech" |
06-21-2014, 09:24 AM
Upon a prairie roamed the king of Hell, a beast to be feared? though he had yet to gain a fearsome reptutation ?by all wolves in Alacritia. His only target, however, should be the Olympian pack thriving within these lands. How he despised them. Death would befall Alacritia if it meant destroying every Olympian other than those allied with his father. His obsidian mass would bulge in the prairie, not well hidden at all. Dark pads met cool winter grasses as he would trudge forth in the oncoming field. Sticking like a sore thumb from the whitewashed landscape, was a maroon vixen, young, yet elegant, obviously grown out of her puppyish stage. "Hello, child of roses." Lyrics would elicit from inky lips smoothly, burning coals calm. The roae-colored vixen was young, perhaps young enough to gain her as a follower, should he find himself upon a throne. She was rather larger for a young lady, such as she. "How are you?" "Speech." |
06-30-2014, 11:11 AM
She certainly is not alone, although she has been aware of his presence since before he had shown himself. Before her stands an ebony beast whom was far larger, and older, than herself, his eyes hued in a dark apricot, and his voice sinister yet smooth. He calls her child of roses, but his pet name does not bring any emotion to the surface of her unwavering features. He speaks again, asking how she is, and she responds out of pure boredom, her tone of voice impassive and indifferent. "I am fine. And you, ebony beast? How do you fair?" Magma hued eyes glance upwards as she aims to align their gazes, ebony dipped tail flicking behind her ethereal hips as she keeps her elongated rudder from touching the earth. |
06-30-2014, 04:29 PM
The red child had spoken, clearly feminine and smooth, a symphony of angels. Ebony beast. The child of roses had called the obsidian bulk, which he would reply to with a simple narrowing of his burning coals. "I am appalled by your pet names, but I fare well. My plots only are yet to unfold." His sinister voice rang over the auditories of any creatures lest they did not care. He tossed his plush banner to the side, as he pulled his crown up, burning coals flitting to fit this new position, stilts folding to allow the ebony mass a seat in the tall prairie grasses, a waiting call to the red child's reply. "Speech." |