Bloody Hands buried in Bloody Sands

[OPEN] Bloody Hands buried in Bloody Sands

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264

Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6

Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE

Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz

10-26-2015, 06:47 PM

“You’re right,” she said. “And yet we light a fire for warmth on a cold night, to keep us safe from the wolves. The difference lies in what we see and what nature sees; as we see survival where nature sees growth.” She smiled. “So yes, I understand it, but that does not automatically mean it is also what I see before my eyes.” —Right now, for what she saw was a stallion she did not know, with eyes she couldn’t read and she had welcomed him, even though he carried a force that had pushed away her mists. Still, her mind was able to overcome what lay before her. If that was really wisdom was the question one could ask, but at least it was interesting.

Yet, underneath her fur, her muscles ached as her instincts told her to move herself away from this individual, to someplace she could hide herself away in her fog. Instincts were, however, rather out-dated and furthermore: She did not dislike his way of thinking, thought it was relatively interesting. Wisdom wasn’t born from safety, anyway, but rather curiosity. —And curiosity isn’t always wise, she mused in thought, attempting to lull her up-right fur as she listened to his story.

With her ears curled towards him, she let his voice lead her into the tale that he carried into war and disorder. Carefully; minding her step as she moved through the shadows that he created inside her mind. And there were shadows; not just his, but also mixing with the ones that came from herself.

Her golden eyes grew colder. “Why did he want to become immortal?” Her golden eyes were cold in their silence as she watched him grin. It looked very... out of place but it would've perhaps made her laugh if she had cared enough and hadn't been distracted by her own mind. But at least he had kept his promise of a darker tale. The strings of thought span on, meanwhile questions formed in her mouth. Her eyebrows raised as she translated her web of pondering into words. “He had started an establishment, one for which was apparently there had been a need for and left his wish in the mouth of his followers as his legacy continued." She raised her brows as she muttered into the depths of the plot. "Was his way not a good way to go?” For he was taken as he should be, immortality was a sin.

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