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03-27-2016, 09:56 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-27-2016, 03:04 PM by Time.
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Had Kiuaji known he'd be the prey of the day, or rather, the dancing partner of his most beloved Bov, he just might have come prepared with a fan of knives. Flutter those flawless amethyst jewels his way while the blades danced away. Unfortunately, the Poisoner had dedicated his day to seeking out the numerous flora scattered around the Edge with Matanye in tow. Searching, cataloging the locations of specific plants and leaves that he could craft his infamous toxins from once more. The though delighted him, to have his precious tools back within his grasp, to add them to tea's and offer them as ambiguous elixirs to the unassuming. However, the cold made the whole ordeal miserable, and the snow made it wet and demoralizing. What fresh level of hell was this? Where was the golden sun and warmth echoed in the bones? The thoughts pulled an elegant, but disgruntled sigh from the effeminate creature as he nudged fresh snow clear of his path. Perhaps he should of been blessed with fire magic, at least he could incinerate this blasted cold and wetness away without so much as batting an eyelash. Eventually, he gave up and shifted his weight, what he wouldn't give for a distraction right about now. Ironically, whatever humorous divine was peering down upon him, granted him his wish. The bellow reached him before the magic did and his head snapped towards the source of the noise, Tembovu. His lips might've twisted into a smile if not for the rattling beneath his hooves, purple hues widening as the ground usurped his place upon it. Most of all, he might've smiled if Tembovu hadn't charged for him with that glinting horn of his poised to strike his hide. What a nasty, naughty trick, he thought to himself. How embarrassing, it was like being caught with his silks strewn across some strangers floor, so undignified to be caught off guard and scrambling for purchase upon ground that did not want to work for him. the poisoner stumbled and bounced onto his hinds, momentarily striking the air with his distaste. How undeniably a young Tembovu thing to do, to catch Kiuaji with his pants down in order to get him to fight. Fortunately, Makutano had done little to diminish his years of fighting between dear Bov, and darling Hasovir. Slender frame still held lithe and toned muscles which tensed and prepared themselves, coiled and uncoiling in a sudden burst of speed as he narrowly missed the worse of the spiraled horn upon the King's head. His flank was caught, and he felt the wetness of beads forming over a minor cut. A minor cut, but it was a cut which stung and prickled deep, needling on the Poisoners mind. It was a cut that Kiuaji was more then happy to return in kind. "How very naughty." Came his exhaled words which rolled into a dangerous hiss, as he bounded away from the titanic stallion and banked to his left to canter in a wide circle around Tembovu. His footing is careful and precise, avoiding the debris and suspicious mounds upon the white earth. He watched, observed and taunted the bigger of the two as banners of gold and cream flowed behind him, like a knight's banners upon a battlefield they flew. Kiuaji had never had the sheer mass and strength his bigger counterparts had, but he had the speed and endurance to make a stallion sweat. And oh, how he was going to make Tembovu sweat for this. He continued to pace, head held high and nostrils flared. The council had not dulled this blade of his, they could never truly take that blood from him, and he would of chided Bov for ever thinking the council had robbed this serpent of that particular talent. Eyes slit when he feels he has found an opening, and he swings his body around to bring him towards the King's right side. Steady at first, maintaining the far reaching strides of his canter until, time seems to slow for the Poisoner. He can feel his breath vibrating through his nose, the impact which rippled through his legs each time his hooves dug into the ground. All too soon it speeds back up again, as his hindquarters engaged, like a coiled serpent striking forward, he accelerates as his head is brought down to present those spiraled swords towards a gold kissed shoulder. He reached his target, and he jerked his head up, hoping that the impact would penetrate the brute, rattle his bones and cut his shoulder into vertical ribbons. WC: 767 A: 1/3 Damage Tracker: Small cut to his left flank. Summary: Get's a small cut on his flank and bounds away from Tembovu, circles him for a little while before he charges him. Aiming his horns to butt against Tembovu's shoulder and jerks up to try puncture and cut into his shoulder with them. "talk talk talk" Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
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![[Image: kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_drea...9nzm7u.png]](http://orig01.deviantart.net/72b0/f/2016/014/d/3/kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_dreadwolves-d9nzm7u.png){kind=tracking}
"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"
force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
with the exception of maiming and death.
