Beneath Metal Stars

[OPEN] Beneath Metal Stars

Murdock Posts: 198

Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE

Gaz

06-06-2013, 09:35 PM

Orangemoon had been a relatively uneventful season for the Grey. Apart from a few conflicts at their borders and some trouble with the Assassin's, Murdock had been tasked little else aside from routine patrols and the occasional escort. He was craving some action, but all the same he enjoyed a little rest. The invasion of Tallsun had been more than enough excitement for a while, but still he found himself in need of a change of scenery every now and then.

He was a creature of habit, as many were, and as such he had taken to making the cliffs above the emerald fields his home. Each night, if he was not miles away from the Foothills following whatever impulse had consumed him, he would return to his cave in the cliff face to rest. He enjoyed waking up in the night to the sound of rain on the edge of the cliff, falling on the world outside where it would not soak his body, but it would still bring life to the earth. He had learned to appreciate it, despite his previous feelings, thanks to what Ailith had told him.

However, the earth was frozen now as Frostfall had settled upon the land, and only snow fell from the heavens. The silver bodies of thin trees reached up toward the starlight with bent fingers, a few twisted, golden leaves showing on top of the blanket of white where they had fallen from the aspens. The moon's face was pale and full overhead, tilted down to look out over the Foothills with glowing eyes. Murdock felt alive in the cool of night, though it gnawed at his bones and left the tips of his ears numb. Frost had settled along the fringes of his feathers, but nonetheless he found the cold to be a welcome sensation.

From the ledge of his cave, he looked out across the sloping rock and dark shale toward the rolling hills in the distance. Though a cloak of white hid the green of the grass and turned the world to greyscale, the forests were peaceful and calm as they slept beneath the ice. He had always loved the first snows as a child, and though his maturity had not changed, his common sense had. As such, he had decided to wait until nightfall to frolic through the drifts.

Spreading lightly iced wings from his sides, he dropped from the cliff in an exhilarating freefall for a moment until the air caught him, lifting him up on weak gusts to carry him slowly toward the waterfall. Ice had formed along the rocky shore, but the roar of the falls was still present beside the jagged slope. Snowflakes spiraled down from dark clouds to rest upon his dark back as he dropped down onto the earth, snow surrounding his fetlocks as he made his way toward a slight hill.

Here, the wind had pushed the drifts into a great, fluffy pile. It looked both inviting and cold, and such a combination was sure to attract him. Without so much as a glance around himself, he plunged into the depths of the drift, snow spraying up over his back as his hooves sunk into the powder. White flakes clung to his eyelashes and whiskers, dusted across the bridge of his nose and forelock to mask the faint iridescence of his markings. The wind picked up as he twirled around toward the falls, beating his wings against the air to lift himself from the wet grip of the snow only to dive down once more. He was utterly carefree in this moment, every inhibition frozen like the land that surrounded him.

"talk talk talk"

If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?

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