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09-06-2013, 04:03 PM
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the heart is deceitful above all things Osiris, there is a girl approaching. From the branches of the tree, a dragon by the name of Comadre hangs. He is small, barely noticeable as his ebony scales blend in seamlessly with the night sky. A flash of violet eyes in the midst of that darkness is the only notice you will receive. Turning his head slowly, purposefully, the wolf watches at the mare arrives. She is tiny, a girl. A child. However, there are curves to her figure and her face that suggest that this is a mare, not a filly. The wideness of her eyes does not appear to be from fear, perhaps striving for a better look in the night. Whatever the case, Osiris simply shifts his weight from one hind leg to another, maintaining contrapposto stance - uncaring, casual. This dainty little fairy would need to grow demons horns and breathe fire to be of a threat to him. Golden eyes note with dissatisfaction that she is staring, rudely, upon him. The night interrupted by company he did not recognize, and therefore, he did not care about. A sigh is lifted from his lips as she opens her own, dulcet tones filling the formerly quiet air with female nattering. Ears flicker back unhappily for a moment, though he wishes not to appear threatening. His claws dig into the dirt below. Unfortunately, he is a threat, whether she recognizes it or not. Poor, stupid girl, apparently by the name of Yuri. His face turns in her direction lazily once more, peering at her with gruff, bored eyes. He long hair and sculpted features represent his exact opposite - delicate beauty. A flower in the dark and dank night, just waiting to be crushed under the hoof of a fool who cares not for beauty. Her fate is just as foolish, parading petals to attract those who bring about heartache and pain. Fools, bouncing about to meet one another in the night. "Monster," he answers, tones rich and baritone, guttural almost in nature. "Mongrel," he continues, his voice beginning to sound decidedly more civilized, with an odd sort of elegance made rugged by his pointed teeth. "Sometimes even 'mister' - though that is usually only ladies too petrified to insult me." He laughs, short and abrupt, the sound appearing just as quickly as it disappears. "What do you want, girl?" ...who can know it? </style> |
