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04-28-2013, 04:53 PM
 THE PLAGUE
Snö
I am languid and fluid in my grace, so charmingly at ease, and I am almost a cat, all melted bone that hardly has form, so flexible and easy. Even as I return my attention to my little half-sibling, the movement is supple and exquisite with boundless beauty. For a moment I preen over myself at the thought of my limber body, the way I run and leap with snow in my mane and my sparkling blue eyes, and I laugh, joyful beyond belief. The wind is my partner in crime, combing back my mane in lush waves.
I am even more dangerous than I am beautiful, however. I turn my head, blink shut long white lashes over liquid blue eyes, open them, my voice a touch short of breath. Again I laugh at his amazement and wonder, the slack-mouthed expression of a toad upon his dark face, so demeaning to what could be handsomeness. Yet suddenly I freeze, retreating, almost disgusted. He is not handsome. He is but a half-ling, and I should care for him less. But when he leaps with me, I cannot deny he grows on me, even if an ugly wart appearing on my beauty- he is braver than he thinks, and I cannot deny that fact, unfortunately. I am dismayed at this feeling, this feeling nearing pride in my glacial heart as he leaps on the edge of death. But still I grin gorgeously and dance alongside him, a dance with death. "Yes!" I cry out, and with a single smile, I race forward, the wind howling in my ears and tearing at my eyes. Let us run until we drop! SPY  |
