.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-24-2015, 05:40 PM
|
He hates happiness, he hates watching the pure and the innocent smile and prance about without care. Their smiles are mocking and sick, and they always seem to taunt his furrowed brows and clenched jaw. He bites his tongue, takes in their merriment and lets himself get swept up in the commotion. The fallen snow gives his fur a spectacular sparkle, and the crunch beneath his hooves makes him long for the feeling of breaking bone, to crush and to maim. He wants to bark out mockery, to joke to the elated faces of those around him that he will tear their flesh from their bones, that he will bring ruin upon them to the rhythm of these bells.
But he does not. He stands in wait, behind all that gather, and watches. He will patiently circle, he will tremble with a need that he cannot fulfill, not yet anyway. He needs time, he needs to plan out his precise course of action. But no matter how hard he pushes and pushes his mind refuses to bring images of bloodied bodies and delicately carved flesh, instead he feels warmth. Within the snow, he feels warm and good inside. It takes him back, it brings him into a spiral of self doubt as he remembers who he had been before. Sweet, caring, he had smiled through his suffrage and ran from his problems, he had been weak. Now he was here, a predator among prey, a wolf in sheep's clothing, he is out of place in this crowd. He is tall and callous, they have emotions and expressions and feelings. Morals to uphold, opinions and personalities that extend beyond, "kill all, eat all, rule all." What an odd concept for such a disgusting inhumane beast like him. "Talk talk talk" [[grumpy pants says merry christmas and happy holidays c:]] |
table by whit
i am a king
and the world is beneath me
and the world is beneath me
