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05-02-2017, 09:46 AM
Why are all the children she finds here so unnecessarily arrogant? With a scowl suddenly blooming across her face, the witch snarls, her pale teeth revealed in a most wolf-like manner. Her already tilted head tilts all the further, until its seems broken, unhinged, and with that most peculiar angle of her gaze she snakes her elegant neck forth, so that her breath, hot, might be felt as a gentle kiss against his spotted hide. Though she lets him continue to speak, and she does not attack, the promise of it is written there upon that horrible, corrupted mask of loathing, as if projected in blood-red, neon lights, or white hot fire erupted from the earth about them. That scowl splits suddenly, becoming a grin that mocks and taunts, her head suddenly righting itself, and her mirthful cackles resounding. They were all arrogant, and dumb as the stone… dumber! Tears collect in the corner of her two-toned gaze, which shutter themselves behind white and black lids, that crinkle with mirth and bob with the elated sway and nods of her head as she laughs at him. With a breathy inhalation that rattles, wet, when her eyes sudden thrust open, and she looks upon him again, the witch answers all his questions – even those he did not know he had. "In what a realm of fools and self-appreciative caterwaulers we have found ourselves to be, Beloved," she giggles and blinks, while she dances in place, that black promise of pain still somewhere beneath the heightened excitement and throbbing joy that seems to expound from her at the present, "so proud of themselves for being such imbecilic flesh sacks, spewing pride while blinded to the word that was told. You are not the only one, child, but the only one you know. Tell me, boy…" Suddenly statue-still, her eyes lock onto Zubari’s, a haunting, semi-smile fluttering about her mouth with twitches and shudders. "Who are you?" the question is far too wickedly inquired, poised like the broad outline of a cobra’s swaying crown, "there is no mark upon you that Beloved can see, no mark but that of youth, and ignorance. Like flies your kind, they swarm the threshold of Our Master. Humming, buzzing, their eyes always inward like mirrors of the self, trajectories too short to see that path which lies before them, or those which came before, or careen alongside." |
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Feel free to attack her with physical or magical violence at your own risk. ;D
