i wanna put on my boogie shoes; [ Festival Dancing/Songs ]

[OPEN] i wanna put on my boogie shoes; [ Festival Dancing/Songs ]

Reginald Posts: 165

Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7

Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE

Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None & Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None M.E.

10-06-2014, 11:58 AM

speak

He holds his piss; this place is not for him. He mistrusts the cloud, the blue fire he stalked through to come to this place. He does not feel confidence in the sky, the golden arches of the twilight, the divinity that wafts in the air so easily. His chest flutters; something brittle inside him remains defined, apparent, unfettered and unforgotten—this place reminds him forcefully of the mortality of his limbs. He is a creature for mortal nightmares—and this heavenly place sweeps them away, mere cobwebs in the piercing holy light. He is uneasy: this kingdom is not his to claim.

He observes, though, however misplaced the darkling colt may be. He reaches an area that reeks of the familiar stench of cold; the unicorns of the north have seemed to bring the aurora with them upon their backs, ushering in the savage, northern winds in the holy land as they congregate. He watches them for a time; he does not understand their revelries. They seem gripped with wild abandon, in love with a faceless stranger of delight; a beat sounds in the air, clashing with the throb of his quivering heart, coaxes something from the Grey-Eye’d prince, something he refuses to divulge. He stands and watches with attentive grey eyes, clinging to the shadows, trying and failing to comprehend these foreign customs, their frenzied, clumsy convulsions.

The cold is familiar to him; he does not understand why unicorns seem drawn to the north—his mother never was. Many times now he has been met with those who hail from the icy grip of the tundra: the red-eyed brute of fraternity; the fragile, glass-spun princess of flowers; the spindling boy of bronze and shadows; his own little spider imp. He thinks of her—he wonders where she’s wandered off to. He tires of chasing; she bowed to him once before, and it’s enough. If she chooses to return to his side—so be it. If she chooses to become an obstacle in his path to dominion—well. We warned her.

So be it.

But what a waste, indeed.

@[Jorogumo] -- (But anyone is welcome to interact with him! He's just being an awkward wallflower<3)