.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
08-18-2013, 06:40 PM
S k e l l s
When you, soldiers, are called into battle, and the odds are grim and there is no hope, do not run. You will only die tired. Just as abruptly as he'd heard the clamor of hooves moving his way, a distressed yet firm sound voiced out to him, and he swiveled his pointed receptors forth, clearly startled by the sudden approach. But once he realized the owner of the voice, a mare bathed in alabaster flesh, the feeling of fright soon vanished down his spine. He straightened himself up, keeping his head held high, and he looked her in the eye, her bright iris' somewhat captivating as she spoke through a whiskered maw. Gods help your soul if you attack. This way, and please state your business. Obediently, the ebon male slowly began to bring himself towards the female, thrusting each white sock ahead of him until he'd achieved the distance between them, and he could smell her breath. Something was wrong. The shiver returned, and he studied her bright eyes. They were distressed, yes. Something was wrong. He inwardly wondered if his coming had severed her from something more important, so he wasted no time in telling her his intentions. "I will not harm you," he began carefully, keeping his silver twined pupils on her spotless frame. He soon heard her name. "Rasta. I am Skells, an Outcast of the Helovian society. I am looking for homelands, perhaps you could take me in? I will earn my keep in due time." He shifted his weight, and the red sand beneath his hooves felt irritable, as if it were chafing away the material in his foot. Even so, he kept his discomforts to himself, as they were of lesser importance to his current situation. He would have like to stretch out his wings; they were sore from being constantly folded against his heaving ribcage, but he didn't want to somehow alarm Rasta. She seemed to worry of something, and he felt as though releasing his full wingspan would only provoke worse matters. Maybe she'd think he was attacking. She did say something about that. 328 words. |
Table by Frostie <3
