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09-26-2014, 09:42 PM
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Bellona
weakness in the flesh, misery in the bones At the contemptuous lady's remarks on idiocy and philosophy, the bedraggled boy concedes defeat and drops to the ground, unable to regain his perch. The gaudy bird grunts as she readjusts herself, but she is appreciative of his decision nonetheless. Brightly hued feathers flicker in thanks, arching upwards in a full display of their beauty and refusing to settle along her spine again. The lean-legged damsel is too weary of her company to worry about proper presentation, and she has already threatened the striped beast with them already; it is not reasonable to put the brilliant tendrils away now. In ignorance of his mother's colorful warning, the spotted pup approaches the tigress with caution. His frame is rigid in anticipation, skin tight across his shifting bones; his dark noses leans in as close as he dares to enhance the potency of her foreign odour. Familiar scents of forest and air waft up his nostrils, but a much fainter (and more peculiar) one can be detected beneath the stronger smell of the Threshold. The crispness of it puzzles the boy, for most of the smells that has has come to know are those of the damp foliage at the Falls, or the more atmospheric ones of the floating island. Returning to the bird for now, he settles down beside her to think it over some. The beauty just rolls her eyes in exasperation. What does smell matter? Either you are of my herd, or you are not; I accept you, or I assault you. What more is there than that? The hyena has to stifle his chuckles to avoid being stomped on, but it isn't as if the Chieftess can hear them; the tiger has started up again, and she finds herself agreeing with her. Who did give this stout woman the right to speak to them with such tones? As amusing as it is to watch the roan rouse the beast to anger, the observant lady decides that enough is enough. Clearly this newcomer is set on being a dictator, and she will not take that away from her; the herd can always use more members, regardless of their abundant supply of superiority complexes. Not that the Aztec will ever admit to having one such thing herself. "I see the crown, your highness, but I do not have to accept it." I don't give a fuck who your dad was, or who you thinkyou are. She has to bite her lip at this, and her words come out more slowly as she struggles to remain inviting to the snobby chestnut. "I am from the Falls, great Pompeii, and in this realm we do not succumb to the will of an Emperor. A Czar and a Czarina rule over the lands that I call home, but do not let our lack of a vacancy deter you. I am certain that if it is indeed a realm that you seek, we can find a suitable position of high authority for you." This part is a lie, but the bold woman assures herself that it does not have to be. Should the fiery-hued dame possess the ambition of one seeking power -- to which she certainly has -- then it should not be hard for her to acquire a rank well-fitted of her. All that she has to do now is follow her home. Of course, it is not just the two mares conversing here. "Should such a ferocious creature desire a home as well, I think we could make use of you." She isn't certain as to how one can use a tiger, but from what the crowned dame has been saying, it sounds like she has an idea. "talk talk talk" {Still not getting better ;-; @[Pompeii]} |
Thank you Vossity <3
Please tag me each post!
Permission granted for physical harassment!
