[open] Beating like a Hammer

[open] Beating like a Hammer

Donovan Posts: 11

Deceased

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 :: 13 years

Adoptable

01-22-2013, 12:14 PM

DONOVAN</style>
Staring at the carnage, praying that the sun would never rise
Living another day in disguise</style>

The beast walked slowly, his ornately adorned head turning carefully as his eyes rolled over the new scene. It had been quite a long time since the relief of natural beauty filled his senses and the feeling was welcomed with the open arms not unlike a new father. The land from which his origins still lay, as well as the land he was now travelling from, both held a tight darkness that overwhelmed everything with a ferocity so intense it would shake the devil himself. And so, forwards the beast walked with an inward feeling of being cleansed from the beauty that surrounded him.

Charcoal eyes flicked this way and that, tail flicking gently to and fro behind him, batting annoying flies with ease. Long ears rotated on either side of his poll, gathering any sign of approaching creatures or the like. The birds moved and chirped happily above him as his black hooves ate up the ground in a careful, precise, and wise manner. His gate, although slow, was calculated and controlled. The muscles in his wide, thick shoulders churned with every movement, his hips rolling to complement the forward appendages. As the creature, a monstrous wraith, reached the edge of the forest, he stopped his forward movement. He stood, silent and tall and examining, before he tossed his head with a new force of movement and grace that rang with power. From this, his jaws parted and a bellowing neigh ripped the near silence of the world around him. The quiet beast was showing new colors.

Black lids veiled charcoal eyes as he waited, shifting his weight in a manner so recognizable to other warriors--an uncomfortable twitch that came with standing still in a foreign land. Taught, black skin twitched as well as flies landed on his scarred hide, nostrils flaring in slight disgust to the creatures. Their biting was something he was accustomed to, in his eight years of life, but it never a welcoming factor of Birdsong. The flow of the long tail increased in speed as his stagnancy attracted more hide biters, and his neck swung quickly as he gave the front half of his body a good shake, cropped mane tossing indecisively.

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