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12-09-2013, 11:20 AM
The sound of wings other than the mutilated ones before him drew him off of the black mare even as she began her tumble to the ground; nostrils wide and mask a grimace of loathing, he pivots about on his haunches to face the intruding bitch with a vengeance so unbecoming of the normally sweet young stallion. His large hooves gouge into the wet earth, straining his limbs as his weight is set back towards the front and leaves him charging the strange earth-toned bird that has dared challenge he and Ricochet’s claim to the kill. He does not notice as the raven slips away, but something unsettling lingers in his mind – the way her stomach curved just then, her weight pressing it flat upon the ground. Wasn’t it too broad for a mare so otherwise toned? He shakes the thought from his mind, literally. There is the matter of this indignant and overly proud woman to deal with, this rodent who has ruined his chase and charged at his new found friend. If there is anything the man has, it is loyalty, and it gleams with a haunting light along his features as his tangled black hair settles back along his tri-toned flesh. His charge becomes a thundering trot, slows into an uneasy and wrathful stomp to a halt across from his buckskin companion and the ever faithful dog, observed through a gleam of crystal blue eye and noted fondly somewhere beneath his desire to now remove the wings from this sky creature as well. She is big, a true challenge in comparison to the not so clever crow now lost in the wet underbrush, and he sizes her up with sweeping inquisition. "The raven is gone, brother," rumbles the wolf within him, it’s hackles smoothing back down across it’s silken ruff, though his features still glint dangerously as they eye the golden tipped fringes of her wings. Would they crush as easily as the other mare’s had? The thought of that delightful sound sent the shivers rushing back along his spine, the belly sick sensation flooding in along behind it as it had the first time. "Yet, indeed, this is none of your business. You are out numbered by two; you have saved a spy so she may tell your secrets, as well. Dabble less, woman," his crystal eyes narrow and he takes a bold step forward, features dark as his anger slips away to reveal the haunting paranoia that glitters like a riverbed of glass beneath the frothing water, "go back to the lightning, with your wings." Lest I break them, too. Dragomir</style> falling asleep in chalk outlines -falling asleep inside the chapel</style> |
JETTSTOCK : SED-RAH-STOCK : GALAXIESANDDUST</style>
Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
