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09-21-2015, 10:04 AM
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The primitive manhood inside of him takes note of the tail and the faint scent in the air. Déodat stifles the instinctual drive, though his mind reels a bit. The years have eaten away at his sense of self control it seems, and there is a mild disgust at himself. He is not some beast so easily swayed by the flesh. The Blood Prince studies his friend and is quick to assume the mare flaunts her womanhood for the simple purpose of distraction. Really it is quite clever he will give her that. Odette looks at Dominus as he growls, yapping at him playfully. Meanwhile Déodat smiles a bit at Nyx’s words. “Couldn’t have chosen a finer day,” he says to her as he shakes the water from his own pelt. The soldier is familiar with the ice and snow, not downpours. The rain doesn’t cause him any worry. All this is, is a friendly spar between two friends. Yet he can’t shake the words from their previous discussions of what victory might hold for him. Such primordial thoughts are pushed from his mind. He dips his head back towards the mare, both ears swiveling against his skull. The blood prince stands in eager anticipation of Nyx’s attack. The mare charges towards him at an angle and Déodat starts to maneuver his body away from Nyx to the left, but his shoulder is quickly greeted by the mare’s chest. At the impact, he stumbles, the slippery ground beneath him only causing him to lose his footing even more. Odette is circling the pair of them with her hackles raised a soft snarl coming from her lips. Déodat doesn’t even need to acknowledge for her to know it is time to strike. The shepherd snarls and leaps forward snapping at the mare’s heels. They feed off one another’s eagerness, their spiritual bond and shared emotions only driving them both into that familiar bloodlusting frenzy. Some semblance of morality grips Déodat before he strikes reminding him of this particular circumstance. It is a spar not a battle, there is no glory to be won by killing the mare nor is there any splendor in the victory. That primordial instinct still arises in him and he can’t help but thirst for victory, knowing all too well what the prize may be. Just as he craves it, it disgusts him. A man so controlled and so refined divulging so easily into such cravings of the flesh. The Blood Prince flings himself forward, moving towards Nyx’s right side, his jaws opening as he seeks to clamp down tightly on her neck. As he charges Odette comes along the other side snarling and snapping at the mare’s left front legs. He seeks to smash his larger body into her's, crush her beneath the weight of his force. With his snapping teeth he lowers his head ever so slightly to scrape his horn across the mare's flesh. "Speech" Tag;; @[] Words;; 492 according to wordcounter Notes;; sorry for the delay ;-; been a hectic week without internet and school starting plus disneyland but finally managed to get this up 1/3 Summary: Déodat is hit in the shoulder and stumbles and slides because of the wet ground. Odette comes up behind Nyx and tries to clamp down on her hind legs. Déodat lunges toward Nyx's RIGHT and tries to smash his body into hers. Odette is moving towards the LEFT and is aiming to bite at Nyx's front legs. |
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Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
Bears the name of "Battle Born"
con by aihnna@dABears the name of "Battle Born"
