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06-24-2015, 10:06 PM
We build cathedrals to our pain
Establish monuments to attain There was fear in those crimson eyes, blazing and overt against the white that marred the young one's face. It caused the brindle's grin to grow, twisting and curling upwards like that of a cheshire cat. The look in the filly's eyes was fleeting, though, and soon enough she seemed to compose herself, but such a feat was not nearly enough to wipe the deranged smirk from the stallion's face. Through molten eyes, the hound of hell kept a vigilant watch on the dragon perched out of reach, his lips curling backwards to reveal an impressive set of teeth, teeth that were ready to latch onto anything that presented even a sliver of threat to his bonded. Teeth that, if one looked closely enough, were already lathered with the thick green of acid. Ready to burn, ready to maim, ready to kill. But the dragon made no further advancement, so Talbot remained where he stood, ever watchful of the fiery being. Laughter eruptted from Crowley's throat at the filly's words, filling the forest just as his demented words had minutes ago. It lasts for several moments before dying away into nothing, and in a moment the grin that previously stretched across his face had fallen, replaced by a crude scowl. "And why did you come here?" He asks sternly, uncaring of her proclamation that she was not the child he saw her to be. Here, he takes a step closer to the skull-faced girl, the madness about him palpable. "Shall I cut your throat?" The question leaves him, calling on the words he'd screamed in his fevered lunacy before, "And watch you bleed?" "Talk talk talk" [I love Nymeria <____<] Freedom from all of the scars and the sins
Lest we drown in the darkness within |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
