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03-16-2014, 05:30 PM
Footfalls and a cheerful voice interrupt the grim musings of the heathen and break the spell that had him frozen in place. Suddenly on his guard the blind stallion spun around on squatted hocks, light on his feet despite the considerable size but perhaps not as quick as those long legs and deep chest would have suggested. There is a warning stated in the way he lower the head to greet the stranger at knife point, a mild suggestion perhaps that stepping too close wasn't going to end in a hug and pat on the back. "It's a good day?" the stag replied laconically, voice sounding flat and emotionless despite the deep vibrato that accompanied the bass tones. "I had no idea. Lady Luck must be smiling at me then, since she tossed me yet another flame to extinguish." A cloven foot pawed the blood-splattered snow menacingly as he stabbed the air with the long spears. The gesture seemed almost playful, but if his words had been intended as a joke the humor was lost between intent and completion as words rolled sharp and dangerous from the tongue. Instead they turned out only threatening, a sensation of impending doom running like cold fingers down a spine... Did the merry madman really think he'd found a kinsman in this swarthy northman? "Would you like to try dying once, nabo?" The insult slipped from charred lips like silk running over a sharpened blade and dissipated in the clear air along with the fogged breath. Morir changed his stance, massive hooves spreading wide to prepare himself for a burst of motion... And perhaps he would have acted upon whatever violent impulse he felt at that moment. But rather than a vicious charge forward to deal further death and torment to this clumsy idiot that had bumbled into his moment of despair, the gargoyle gave off a choked scream and threw himself to the side as thought burned by some invisible flame. Snow sprayed high into the air as he leaped away, only to land with legs spread wide and trembling, tail thick and brush-like - not dissimilar to a startled cat - behind the hocks. A deep, quivering breath left him then, that sounded much too similar to a sob. He had stepped on the body of the hare... What if I say I will never surrender? |
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