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01-19-2016, 04:29 AM
Eyes were ebony in the night, hollow pits reflecting vengeful carnage licking as hungry flames up the doomed pine’s scarred trunk. Only fire filled his vision, hearing, senses. It blinded him to the vacated forest around him.
Except that it was not vacated. A man stood among the trees, drawn like a moth to the flame. But this moth knew much more about flames than any usual winged creature. This moth knew the devastation fire had burnt through the King. He knew of the destructive loss.
“Tembovu,” the quiet voice from the shadows reduced to a whisper in the face of roaring, red tongues. But the ravaged beast heard it— perhaps because he wanted to, mostly because he needed to. An ear snapped sideways, followed by the abrupt turn of his heavy head.
Fire had overwhelmed his eyes, blinding them to the subtle shadows of darkness. A sheen of black, flickering with phantom flames, replaced the trees around him. Panic, or something like it, bloomed amid the rage in his barrel— an unholy combination of fear and fury. Ears quivered, caught between straining for further words and pinning against his skull in warning. The heat returned in his chest, building and burning— no. Not again.
The thick, black hide of his deep chest grew hot, glowing as the tree burned. This magic was magnificent, incredibly powerful, but came at such a cost, his spent and burnt body shuddered once as the anger reignited. Darkened eyes scour the trees, still stripped of their sight— though it slowly returned as flames become trunks and smoke becomes shadows. A silhouette of white, more a smudged glimpse than true form, managed to impress itself on wrath-lit retinas.
“Show yourself!” The deep growl of his voice was not his own, but something drug by demons over smoldering coals.
Except that it was not vacated. A man stood among the trees, drawn like a moth to the flame. But this moth knew much more about flames than any usual winged creature. This moth knew the devastation fire had burnt through the King. He knew of the destructive loss.
“Tembovu,” the quiet voice from the shadows reduced to a whisper in the face of roaring, red tongues. But the ravaged beast heard it— perhaps because he wanted to, mostly because he needed to. An ear snapped sideways, followed by the abrupt turn of his heavy head.
Fire had overwhelmed his eyes, blinding them to the subtle shadows of darkness. A sheen of black, flickering with phantom flames, replaced the trees around him. Panic, or something like it, bloomed amid the rage in his barrel— an unholy combination of fear and fury. Ears quivered, caught between straining for further words and pinning against his skull in warning. The heat returned in his chest, building and burning— no. Not again.
The thick, black hide of his deep chest grew hot, glowing as the tree burned. This magic was magnificent, incredibly powerful, but came at such a cost, his spent and burnt body shuddered once as the anger reignited. Darkened eyes scour the trees, still stripped of their sight— though it slowly returned as flames become trunks and smoke becomes shadows. A silhouette of white, more a smudged glimpse than true form, managed to impress itself on wrath-lit retinas.
“Show yourself!” The deep growl of his voice was not his own, but something drug by demons over smoldering coals.
Tembovu
the Elephant King
...approach at your own risk :|
Please tag Tembovu.
