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06-29-2017, 12:55 AM
Kianzo
While you burn at the stake, I dance with the flames.
The dark prince wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up in the Labyrinth. He had been walking among the Marshes and then… something had happened. Like the memory slip between waking from dreams and falling back into them. He shook his darkly lined head for a moment, blinking away the (unknowingly Kaos induced) glaze over his eyes, trying to find focus amid the mist and tangled bamboo rods—
And then he froze.
Bellisma.
There was no mistaking the small, golden form. He would know it anywhere—he’d likely know it for the rest of his life. He had seen it in his dreams, he had seen it in his thoughts… especially of late, when taunted by Oizys and teased by the Kia’s fiery foxes. He had been naught but a colt when he was with Bellisma but now… testosterone swelled his frame and clouded his childhood recollections of the mare.
His nostrils flared, ears straining towards the mist wreathed, etched beauty. Ethereal in the mist—was she another dream his mind had been plaguing on him since Kiada awoke this heat in his veins with her fiery words? …He watched for a few moments longer, waiting to see if she would dissolve into some primal act, driven by the heat that continually waxed and waned through his body and in his groin. Though sometimes enjoyable, he found these sensation more irritating and distracting than pleasurable. He needed to focus—was it her?
“Bellisma?” His deep voice called out. Though a question, his low rumble was never uncertain.
And then he froze.
Bellisma.
There was no mistaking the small, golden form. He would know it anywhere—he’d likely know it for the rest of his life. He had seen it in his dreams, he had seen it in his thoughts… especially of late, when taunted by Oizys and teased by the Kia’s fiery foxes. He had been naught but a colt when he was with Bellisma but now… testosterone swelled his frame and clouded his childhood recollections of the mare.
His nostrils flared, ears straining towards the mist wreathed, etched beauty. Ethereal in the mist—was she another dream his mind had been plaguing on him since Kiada awoke this heat in his veins with her fiery words? …He watched for a few moments longer, waiting to see if she would dissolve into some primal act, driven by the heat that continually waxed and waned through his body and in his groin. Though sometimes enjoyable, he found these sensation more irritating and distracting than pleasurable. He needed to focus—was it her?
“Bellisma?” His deep voice called out. Though a question, his low rumble was never uncertain.
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