| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8 |
| M.E. |
05-26-2014, 09:40 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-27-2014, 11:28 AM by Zikar-Sin.)
It had been season…no. It had been much longer than what mere moons could measure. It felt to the Disciple that it had been years since the title “Plague” had graced his ear with it razor sharp splendor. He had thought it had died with Tolio’s love and Myrddin’s guidance; that it had dissipated with the frost of Mauja’s heart, had been hacked to pieces like Psyche’s dear horn. Yet there it came spilling from the gilded lips of his delightful Queen, truly a blossom of the verdant springtime, that glorious time of the year where things come reborn and rejuvenated, flourishing after the stifling frost of winter! And what a long winter it seemed to have been, for amidst the failed Warcraft and mindless politics, he had very nearly forgotten the true, pure purpose of his place within those ice-clad halls of the northern Basin.
Nearly.
When Zikar-Sin came upon the golden Queen and the blood-soaked beast of poison, it was with a painful, contrite gleam in the magnified iris of his monocled eye. It was with a fretful gait that he approached them; then, as he came before his lady and his old witch-doctor, he gave a low bow, the lines of his tired face tightening as he beheld his mistress. “I do apologize for my tardiness, my Lady; d’Artagnan,” he said in his airiest, most grievously devastated voice—for the reason for his lateness was as guileless as it was embarrassing. Quite simply, the poor Disciple had been under the influence of a deep, rather satisfying nap that almost caused him to miss out on the meeting of old friends entirely.
Almost.
The Disciple stifled great yawn to preserve his cordiality as his ever-striking icy gaze washed over Illynx and d’Artagnan, suffused with the warmth of his affection for his friends (and, of course, the quickly receding fog of recent sleep). It was at that moment that Zikar noticed the slender shadow of a colt hugging his Lady’s hip. Something within Zikar’s heart-void seemed to burst; he gave a small gasp, his eyes becoming intense, manic even, as he beheld the little princeling. It was spring time, was it not? The time for new things to spring alive, renewed, refreshed—and also, he remembered, a rather suggestive time for his comrades of the female sex. “Why, hello to you , little prince!” He very nearly whispered, voice soaked in wonder as he gazed upon the son of Illynx—and just like that, he was quite in love, for the weakness for smaller, fragile beings always seemed to linger in the black chasm of the deranged scholar.
A long moment of wonder-filled, slightly unsettling staring ensued before Sin finally came back to himself—he shook his head, berating himself mentally for his lapse of focus; perhaps he still hadn’t entirely shaken his nap? “Oh dear,” he laughed lightly, blinking for the first time and bringing his gaze back to Illynx, “I am out of sorts. Still, I congradulations, my dear! What a handsome fellow, yes?” He gave a great dazzling smile, oh so excited, his spirit soaring far from his breast as the glow of a child’s presence suffused him. “Here I am, my Lady, as you requested.” He gave a dip of his head once more, and for a moment the ugly head of his embarrassment reared in his breast as he grimaced. “I…do beg your pardon. It shall not happen again.”
[QUE HAPPY SIN CREEP STARE :D]
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IMG Credit: ness094@deviantart.com
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[P] i'm gone from there; [PLAGUE ONLY]
