.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
06-23-2015, 06:15 AM
Disappointment.
It's like a sledgehammer to his face, to his heart, his fragile dream built upon mist-pillars and fortified with stardust; it threatens to shatter.
But he holds it together, a stubborn glue.
There was a sound chasing him in the darkness, a twin shadow to his, the iron of her muscle loosening up and the steel of her hide glimmering in the patches of starlight, but—but it was not a tribute to war, it was.. it was...
He wanted to feel her breath coming down his haunches, to feel her teeth catching his snowy skin, heck, even grabbing his tail to yank him to a halt; he wanted to feel the tip of her horn breaking skin open along his flank, spilling pearly droplets of red, to hear a siren, a banshee's scream, feel her entire body slamming into his in an effort to stop him—
But she was just running next to him, elegant and deadly, but much, much too serious and distant, "You know, perhaps we could do something more productive than running," her words slipping out like little clouds of fog.
The disappointment sank deeper, and Mauja slammed on the brakes himself, sliding a little in autumn-wet grass before coming to a halt; his mane was disheveled, and his gaze burned flatly, but the voice that came out was only amused (I'm too good at lying my way through life). "Don't you know how to play? I don't think you will defeat your enemies by running with them," he said, that wistful bemusement masking the blackness beneath. "Nor by kindly asking them to spar." His head, held high, tilted in the pallid light, and he looked this way, then that, then back to Nyx. Fire up, lady. I know you can do this. I know you can loosen up and let go.
"Try again. Catch me, because I'm coming to stab those sleepy motherfuckers."
And then he was off again, in another direction, white tail streaming out behind him like a banner of war, blood racing, mind alight, and the quivering in the foundation of his empire of dreams changed note from doubt to anticipation,
and this time, he hopes that she'll rise to the challenge, and play with him in the wicked, sharp moonlight.
[ 0/3 || @[Nyx] ]
It's like a sledgehammer to his face, to his heart, his fragile dream built upon mist-pillars and fortified with stardust; it threatens to shatter.
But he holds it together, a stubborn glue.
There was a sound chasing him in the darkness, a twin shadow to his, the iron of her muscle loosening up and the steel of her hide glimmering in the patches of starlight, but—but it was not a tribute to war, it was.. it was...
He wanted to feel her breath coming down his haunches, to feel her teeth catching his snowy skin, heck, even grabbing his tail to yank him to a halt; he wanted to feel the tip of her horn breaking skin open along his flank, spilling pearly droplets of red, to hear a siren, a banshee's scream, feel her entire body slamming into his in an effort to stop him—
But she was just running next to him, elegant and deadly, but much, much too serious and distant, "You know, perhaps we could do something more productive than running," her words slipping out like little clouds of fog.
The disappointment sank deeper, and Mauja slammed on the brakes himself, sliding a little in autumn-wet grass before coming to a halt; his mane was disheveled, and his gaze burned flatly, but the voice that came out was only amused (I'm too good at lying my way through life). "Don't you know how to play? I don't think you will defeat your enemies by running with them," he said, that wistful bemusement masking the blackness beneath. "Nor by kindly asking them to spar." His head, held high, tilted in the pallid light, and he looked this way, then that, then back to Nyx. Fire up, lady. I know you can do this. I know you can loosen up and let go.
"Try again. Catch me, because I'm coming to stab those sleepy motherfuckers."
And then he was off again, in another direction, white tail streaming out behind him like a banner of war, blood racing, mind alight, and the quivering in the foundation of his empire of dreams changed note from doubt to anticipation,
and this time, he hopes that she'll rise to the challenge, and play with him in the wicked, sharp moonlight.
[ 0/3 || @[Nyx] ]
lord, the demands you're making-
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
