Looking Back Like a Pillar of Salt

[OPEN] Looking Back Like a Pillar of Salt

Abraham Posts: 113

Absent Abyss atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5

Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3 hh :: Three years HP: 71 | Buff: NOVICE

Gwyneverre :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath & Brienne :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Frost Breath Time

03-26-2016, 11:13 PM

Throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red
Fifty words for murder and I'm every one of them

For as much disdain as his brother held for this beach, Abraham loved it. In this place he had been given Gwnyeverre. Recently, this place had blessed his dragons with quite a filling meal. In fact, the blood still lingered on their scales, painting their already brilliant hues of white and gold with a beautiful, smeared crimson. Abraham moved down the shoreline easily, his muscles trained against the pull of the sand. The tide ebbed up and reached with foamy fingers for his feathered hooves, touching him with such seduction. Come play, each wave begged. He could almost hear the voices of the sirens calling him to the depths.

Abraham knew the power of water.

He continued on the sand.

Dragons soared overhead and did not stir his mind until they caught the sight of something familiar. Brienne alerted first, seeing brown feathers touch the golden sun before her green eyes. Gwyneverre joined, sending images of the first harpy's twin. The behemoth lifted his head, mismatched eyes instinctively searching the beach. His heart scuttled, the sea salt filled air filling his lungs with vigor, nostrils searching for the scent of what followed those disastrous harpies.

Reginald. The dragons spoke in tandem, delight filling their breasts that mirrored the leviathan's. The beast had not laid eyes upon his wombmate since he had mounted and claimed the pale female who was to patrol with his brother. Lifting into a high-kneed trot, Abraham quickened his pace down the shoreline. His dragons darted in the air, wings beating hard against the strong winds.

There! Gwyneverre alerted, trilling into the wind. It was unheard, but the image of his brother walking towards him made the stallion lower his gait. He stood, waiting, for his brother to crest a sandy knoll and lay eyes on him, on his strength and his brilliance. When the stag finally did, Abraham lifted his chin and met the Eyes of Grey, his own mismatched eyes so akin to them. "Reginald."

Image Credit

Find