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03-09-2015, 02:47 PM
ULRIK & KIRCHOFF
Each point in space (and time) is associated with a vector that determines what force a moving charge would experience.
Each point in space (and time) is associated with a vector that determines what force a moving charge would experience.
The wolf lay in wait, the brilliance of his metallic contraptions performing their duties. Mechanized loops, hidden in the tall grasses, were perfectly positioned, ready to pop at the first weight, and he was not too far away. See, while he was not exactly picky with whom he dragged into this trap, he was respectful of the Basin's alliances. If any of the Edge or Throat were to get caught, he would immediately release them, but fortunately, that was not the case. Cloaked with nightfall and half-hidden behind a tree, the beast watched, Kirchoff's predatory gaze piercing the night in a way his eyes could not.
A familiar click alerted him to his prey, and he gazed out from behind the bark, seeing an ordinary, red mare with her fetlocks bound. Eerie, bronze eyes with green flecks studied her, noticing that her direction most noticeably came from the Falls. He would not release her then. His kind were now trapped in alliances, and his bloodlust rarely sated. But much to his luck, the idiots in the Falls refused to join forces, allowing him to play. Ulrik stood for a few moments, musing to himself and letting her stir. Once she realized that his traps were not so easily removed, he would make his entrance.
The wickedly brilliant behemoth padded lightly to where she was, not concerned with hiding his appearance. Two, menacing horns protruded form his brow, and if not for the sleek, black coat and archaic marking up his left leg, he would look quintessentially unicorn. His lion tail lightly bobbed behind his muscular, tall, frame, hair blooming from his chest and messy beard tumbling from a masculine jaw. He exuded an overpowering scent of musk, pheromones of power and strength, and perhaps, if he wasn't such a goddamn nerd, he'd be rather attractive.
He paused in front of her, and Kirchoff sniffed in the direction of her companion, staying uncharacteristically close to Ulrik's side. The stallion listened to her words, smirking slightly - a dark expression that barely curled one side of his whiskered lips. "A mouthy one, it seems," he rumbled, thick accent and deep, graveled tones rounding out his very male persona. "Tell me, dear," he said, cocking his head to the side in an oddly innocent gesture. "Why do you play bitch for the Falls? What does it gain you being in one of the most prejudiced herds in Helovia?"
@[Essetia]
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