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01-09-2015, 02:12 AM
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Bolverik
Helovia. This new land held such promise and tragedy, and the exiled prince wandered in this adventure. Birdsong held strong, the warm breeze and present sun heating dapples of sunlight upon the dark, clean hide of his strong back. Hotsprings in the north had restored his cleanly habits while walking and rich grass had restored the handsome, muscular physique of his masculine form. Unlike his brother and cousin, the elder politician's jaw was scruffy with a beard, not long and braided. Everything about Bolverik was slightly more refined than the warrior blood that ran through his veins. Long, silken tendrils of hair looped over the small of his back, lion tail holding golden ornaments of his former life as he let it sway easily at his hocks. A heavy, contented breath whispered through his velvet lips, golden gaze falling on every new leaf and wondrous path. The world was a canvas, beautiful and deep with meaning, so interconnected. Once, he had loved, but those characters had since been painted over, the only lingering remnant of their existence the weight in his heart. Two lovers taunted him with their song, dancing among the tree tops with their feathered limbs. Oh, but he dreamed. His mind, average and yet creative, held such plans and aspirations. There was much yet to achieve. One kingdom had been torn from him, along with everyone he loved, but here were many more. Marble pillars and rainbows of glass spoke of these ancient lands, the canvas on which to paint a new tomorrow. He looked up in awe, golden hooves dancing up each step with his ethereal, graceful gait. In every way but title, he was a king. Bolverik, prince of the world. Beautiful, charming, charismatic and silver tongued. He may not have been graced with cleverness or strength, but he had an uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time and gone for the fallout. Bolverik stood in the center of the crumbling structure, looking as if he perfectly belonged with his gilded horns, svelte figure and pooling tail upon the stone floor. He marveled upward at the glittering ceiling, musing on the creators of this strange new world. "Beautiful," he murmured, deep, melodic voice singing through the pillars. [[ :D Weeee open ]] |
I'm aching for you
But you're bound to bleed if I adore you
please tag me in all posts
But you're bound to bleed if I adore you
please tag me in all posts
