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Death comes, an array as beautiful as the life that had unwound before it, a stream of horned creatures delicate and graceful.
A Lady glorious as the dawn he had waited in streams first across the frost laden earth in dulcet tones of rose and aureate, the light of the sky painting the warrior damsel in colors that make the old man’s eyes water in their beauty, a hesitation lingering in his body for only a moment to look upon her as she comes.
It is fitting, that she is a woman – for that is what gave him his life, and it is that which he has led his life admiring.
He turns to give the violet and ivory hound running in bounds of joy before her what she desires, a good long run before weariness steals what little vigor the elderly stag has left. Bounding as if he is to take to the forest, he suddenly turns to take to the fields, only to suddenly find the dawn light framing a golden stallion in the misty spring air, the gentle glow piercing the snowy hue of his mane which frames his dual horned features. The Lord’s challenge provokes a bellowing trumpet from the buck before his own proud set lowers, meeting the strange horse creature in combat as he has met his fellows before time and time again, forelegs hitting the earth with an audible smack in the earth.
His head is heavy with the added weight of his long since defeated foe, and the stag knows he will wear fast wielding it – but he had never fled a battle before, and would not begin so today. He meets the sunlight stallion’s horns with his own quadruple set in a resounding crack! that almost severs the sound of a third set of hooves approaching.
The poetry of it all makes the old warriors heart pound with a proud finality, the final walk of a man who feels fate smile upon him, who revels in how very blessed he is.
Black as night, there is a deadliness to the smooth approach of the azurite crowned creature that is etched into every fiber of his dark being, viewed from a glance as his tines fought the points of the golden one. Swift as wind, the lion tailed wraith descends, his horn slicing a rift into the elk’s tough flesh, the proud and haggard stag grunting in pain.
The hound and the dawn maiden are not far behind, coming like that which he will never see again.
Kicking out towards the dark stallion with some measure of force, he hopes to return the gesture with a swift impact with any part of the creature he can reach, though it is a slim hope – he is, after all, more involved with the golden one before him, the black cloak billowing in the soft spring breeze and the motions of his limber frame.
As soon as all four of his hooves are down, the elk presses forward and to the left, his head held low and defensively between himself and the aureate male, hoping to press his bulky figure slightly passed the bicorn so that he could have the woods to his back rather than a dog – assuming, of course, that the hound wasn't already leaping for him, lost in his surging forward…
[ Summary: The elk moves to run away from Hotaru and Alice, only to find Thranduil's horns, which he meets with his own/the skull (its very tiring to do this, as the skull is heavy, and he has been carrying it for some time). Deimos lacerates the right leg above the hock joint, and it is now bleeding. The elk tries to push away from Thranduil and better defend himself by pulling to the left towards the trees. ]
A Lady glorious as the dawn he had waited in streams first across the frost laden earth in dulcet tones of rose and aureate, the light of the sky painting the warrior damsel in colors that make the old man’s eyes water in their beauty, a hesitation lingering in his body for only a moment to look upon her as she comes.
It is fitting, that she is a woman – for that is what gave him his life, and it is that which he has led his life admiring.
He turns to give the violet and ivory hound running in bounds of joy before her what she desires, a good long run before weariness steals what little vigor the elderly stag has left. Bounding as if he is to take to the forest, he suddenly turns to take to the fields, only to suddenly find the dawn light framing a golden stallion in the misty spring air, the gentle glow piercing the snowy hue of his mane which frames his dual horned features. The Lord’s challenge provokes a bellowing trumpet from the buck before his own proud set lowers, meeting the strange horse creature in combat as he has met his fellows before time and time again, forelegs hitting the earth with an audible smack in the earth.
His head is heavy with the added weight of his long since defeated foe, and the stag knows he will wear fast wielding it – but he had never fled a battle before, and would not begin so today. He meets the sunlight stallion’s horns with his own quadruple set in a resounding crack! that almost severs the sound of a third set of hooves approaching.
The poetry of it all makes the old warriors heart pound with a proud finality, the final walk of a man who feels fate smile upon him, who revels in how very blessed he is.
Black as night, there is a deadliness to the smooth approach of the azurite crowned creature that is etched into every fiber of his dark being, viewed from a glance as his tines fought the points of the golden one. Swift as wind, the lion tailed wraith descends, his horn slicing a rift into the elk’s tough flesh, the proud and haggard stag grunting in pain.
The hound and the dawn maiden are not far behind, coming like that which he will never see again.
Kicking out towards the dark stallion with some measure of force, he hopes to return the gesture with a swift impact with any part of the creature he can reach, though it is a slim hope – he is, after all, more involved with the golden one before him, the black cloak billowing in the soft spring breeze and the motions of his limber frame.
As soon as all four of his hooves are down, the elk presses forward and to the left, his head held low and defensively between himself and the aureate male, hoping to press his bulky figure slightly passed the bicorn so that he could have the woods to his back rather than a dog – assuming, of course, that the hound wasn't already leaping for him, lost in his surging forward…
[ Summary: The elk moves to run away from Hotaru and Alice, only to find Thranduil's horns, which he meets with his own/the skull (its very tiring to do this, as the skull is heavy, and he has been carrying it for some time). Deimos lacerates the right leg above the hock joint, and it is now bleeding. The elk tries to push away from Thranduil and better defend himself by pulling to the left towards the trees. ]
