the Rift


[PRIVATE] eight legs to the wall

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#1


V O L T E R R A
HE SAYS "OH BABY GIRL, DON'T GET CUT ON MY EDGES
I'M THE KING OF EVERYTHING AND MY TONGUE IS A WEAPON"

The sea water laps against his legs, matting his foot-feathers against the stout mass of his fetlocks. A gentle ocean breeze ruffles the thick mass of his mane, and sends a wave of spray against the thick muscles of his arched neck. He stands still, silent and stoic, simply staring out at the vast expense of roiling blue sea. What is out on that horizon, he wonders? There could be untold splendour there, reachable only by the gulls that screech and flock above his head; they disturb his silence with their wailing, and his ears pin crossly.

Their screeching intensifies as, with joyous bellows, the goliath's dragons dart amonst the fleeing feathery forms. They snap and bite at the flying lumps of meat, and Vadir happily barbecues one with a single blast from her gaping jaws. They circle and devour as many of the unfortunate flock as they can, until only a few precious stragglers manage to escape towards the setting sun in the far distance. Volterra emits a low chuckle as both red and gold plummet towards the sand with their kills held firmly in their mouths, feathers poking askew out of the corners of their scaled jaws and bits of blood and gore splattered against their proud faces.

He pays them little heed. His thoughts are elsewhere; they are with his herd (it still feels odd whenever he remembers that he has a herd now) and his numerous duties. His days are no longer his own; when he isn't sparring, he's recruiting, and when he isn't recruiting, he's patrolling. The behemoth has never been so busy, and so as another day dies on the blood-red horizon, he vows to simply relax in his own company.

That is why he stands, a colossal statue of blackened flesh and rigid muscle, staring aimlessly out to sea, whilst his dragons squabble and snap at each other over the tattered bits of seagull.

image credits


@Airlia

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]





Messages In This Thread
eight legs to the wall - by Volterra - 09-24-2016, 03:22 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Airlia - 09-26-2016, 05:18 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Volterra - 10-01-2016, 04:08 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Airlia - 10-04-2016, 02:03 AM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Volterra - 10-04-2016, 04:37 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Airlia - 10-13-2016, 11:43 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Volterra - 10-18-2016, 02:24 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Airlia - 10-19-2016, 02:26 AM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Volterra - 10-19-2016, 02:03 PM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Airlia - 10-20-2016, 01:00 AM
RE: eight legs to the wall - by Volterra - 11-05-2016, 10:54 AM

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