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Post by Kamenwati on Jun 12, 2008 16:57:32 GMT -6
 Little Dove Small yet fatigue figure moved through the underbrush. Only 6 weeks old the young foal moved cautiously into the Mordrid Lake. Not much of what you'd expect from this little tyke. Well filly if you'd like to get your head or limbs chopped off. I'd suggest you answer her formal acquire correctly. Seeing that there was nothing to be feared cranium lifted as the alabaster filly moved carefully forwards. What alliance was she? Well you can smell the scent of a dark and a scent of a light. Come to think of it her parents were one of those two alliance's. Her dam Anamosa meaning "White Fawn" is a light while her sire Chayton meaning "Falcon" is a dark. Just after she was born her mother Anamosa called this young filly you see to day Paloma which means "Little Dove".
Now Paloma entered each taking cautious steps out in the middle of the lands. Twin towers swiveled atop her cranium taking in unfamiliar sounds as she continues on her way. Coming to a slow halt the young flicka still not yet weened from her mothers milk collapsed onto the soft grass below as her body was beginning to become weak. After many walks of days and nights Paloma decided that it was too late to go any further. Her body can't take much of this anymore. Rolling onto her side the alabaster filly kicked out her legs in a stretch then lowered her cranium to rest against the lush grass. Two chocolate orbs gazed up at the green leaves above as she laid still beneath a shady tree. Her mind and heart is that of a light, but her soul remained that of a dark. If any alliance approached her some might find it strange that a young filly such adorable and innocent as this one would have the blood of both alliance's.
Surveillance is the key point to master what is to come next. After her sire took hold of what would of been her light sire's herd, but this filly has the blood of a dark. For her mother was force bred and out came Paloma. And here she is today hunger driving her to stop and sleep. Or rest as others would call it. Surveying her surroundings the young flicka kept her audits fixed on the sounds around her while she rested her weary frame. What she needed right now was milk. And I bet there isn't any mares out right now that could provide her with something of that sort. A little cry was given as she pulled her legs up and kicked her frame up to where she's now standing on all fours. But it didn't take long before she moved closer to the tree trunk and lowered her fatigue right beside it. Propping herself from falling over.
Limbs tucked beneath her hide as cranium lowered. Jaws parted as she tried to taste the grass below, but quickly spitted them out. Gross, this is what adults eat? That is seriously disgusting. Who in the world would want to eat that. She though to herself as two chocolate orbs danced over the horizon before they couldn't bare to look anymore. Soon the heaviness of sleep took over the filly's body as Paloma fell into a deep sleep. Well it has been several days and nights since she slept. What do you expect for a filly this size. Wolves and other predators lurk outside those walls wanting to feast upon her little frame. Some places seemed a bit to strange as well as nothing else to do. So coming to a vast new world on the outside of Dawn, the young filly opened her eyes without lifting her cranium staring out at the vast land around her. What was this place called again? Oh right Mordrid Lake. A cough was made as she sat up tucking her lankly legs beneath her. Two eyes scanned the area for whoever owned this place.
*Word Count*
600 words
3168 characters
*Mood* tired hungry
*ooc* longest post to be ever written by yours truly. |
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Post by ox. scream, flatline on Jun 12, 2008 18:43:00 GMT -6
Wulfsbayne.
xx._ Count: o.707
xx._ Characters: Wulfsbayne
xx._ Involved: Paloma
xx._ Mood : intrigued
xx._ currently open : eww first post with him, plus im a little rusty.
The cunning beast, slow and steady as large titaniums pour over the realm, and to all this one would simply utter the words beautiful. The sleeping flora is harshly awakened, as it is forced to bow down at the creatures masculine daggers as the slowly, and steadily tear loose the soil and compact it beneath his bulk. The sun is dying; its last rays sparkle over the horizon as another day comes to end. Yet in the opposite dawn the birth of the moon is given and a new legend begins. Slowly taking over , thus the stallion walks over the realm, alone with out consequence. His muscular physique ripples beneath his charcoaled coating. Pristine, fresh never scarred from battle although battle is envitable when you are a stallion such as this beast. He walks proudly, knowingly at the disadvantage of most his mortality a thing to be proud of as he walks through the shadow covered realm, slowly being devoured by the darkness.
Inviting it with a satanic smile of pure malice. The pleasures. Yet as he walks he has nothing on mind, no rotten plans of destruction, only one thing in mind, and that is to leave this land immortal. His reign to be forever remembered, the day the non believers walked the earth. Steps were made as he advanced upon the lands, such an evil little mind that lingered with in his ebonic skull as his barrel moved forward at a slow antagonizing pace. Waiting for the world to bow to him, to bow their heads in fear of broken bodies, the day would come when he would lead a nation to glory. Yet as of now the day was forgotten and though he remembered the rest of the world has forgotten his dying kind and now he must find them. Find those like him, powerless yet strong, proud. You think a storm can stop them from surviving, through the toughest drought, the harshest rains. Few made it to these lands but the non believers who have are the toughest of all creatures to survive through world with out the aid of some immortal god. For it is they who can not leave on a whim like the spineless who depend on their gods for everything. For those who rely on the powers, yes they are the ones who shall die out for they have become lazy in accordance with nature.
The scent of the young passed through his nostrils, the scent of the of world pouring of the young flicka as his wolf like eyes watched her moved, so slow, so fragile, he s mile at thought. where was her god now? what about he god worshiping mother and spineless father. He watched her, he followed her, watching as her miniscule audits as the flickered lost and fearless. He smirked. His nares flaring with a snort as he followed the weakened foal to the poit where she collapsed. Hunger drover her, he could tell something so young shouldn’t be alone, not with out there mother. He thought of the possibilities. Was she just another abandoned foal, or perhaps her mother died in some tragic event. He smirked, histories were becoming all to easy to predict. Everyone seemingly to fall in some dramatic category. He laughed aloud, his dark soothing voice creeping over the lands, a low lullaby that escaped his mug, he moved forward to the little filly. his deep voice booming in his own lands. Am I to pity you? He questioned her curious of her response. He circled her slow and steady, his amber eyes like a wolf locked in on his prey.
He stopped at the tree she had propped her self up on inhaled her scent from the bark. then he looked back to the foal laying there helpless, and hopeless. he grinned. The power he now held over this young foals future. Even if she were at optimal health at her age, he could most certainly be the bringer of her death. He smiled as he edged closer the laying fawn. Skinny and hungry.where is your mother, or should I pity her fate as well? He stood at the head of the young filly waiting for a response
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Post by Kamenwati on Jun 12, 2008 19:10:57 GMT -6
Little Dove Quickly getting to her feet the young flicka let out a rough snort as the stallion approached her. Pity? Was he trying to pity me? That thought crossed her mind as she followed him as he circled her. The thought of being hungry and sick never crossed her mind right now for she was in the presence of the rogue stallion. Leader of the Middle Earth. "What's pity of me? No one pity's me. My mother did, but my brainless of a father never did." She hissed revealing the dark side of her. The fluff of her tail whipped behind her haunches as she gazes up at the stallion, holding her ground.
Twin towers sliced back then flicked forwards as he spoke of where is her mother. "She's dead. Thanks to that so called father of mine." Paloma snapped in an angry voice. Her stomach growled in hunger, but she didn't cower or slip away just from the sound of her stomach growling. No she was going to stand up for herself. Always being picked around just because of her weak state. Instead she's going to show those that she can be strong even if she's showing skin and bones.
"You can pity her fate if you so desire as to wish it. My mother was too weak to stand up to my brainless father." Paloma spoke with a sarcastic tone in her voice. Moving forwards she stood before the stallion gazing up at the golden pools he held. She had dark/chocolate ones that held a gaze of pain and sorrow, but she wouldn't allow that to show.
*Word Count*
278 words
1425 characters
*Mood* intrigued by Wulfsbayne
*ooc* longest post to be ever written by yours truly. |
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Post by ox. scream, flatline on Jun 17, 2008 19:55:06 GMT -6
OOC: I changed his appearance he’s sorrel now.
OOC: Also, you might want to watch it with your little foal.
No offense but she’s not even old enough to survive with out her mother or a sergeant mother, and nothing guarantees her the right to live in these lands. Bayne could kill her easily, and based on his personality he will.
The stance of the stag changed, his once curious disposition turned aggressive in his personality, no he did not pity her, only wanted to know why she was dumb enough to com here to his island. His banter lashed out in anger. This little foal picked a horrible time to stand up for her self, and a bad choice of who to test. The stud pawed at the dirt, trying to resist the sound of her beating heart, the blood pumping through it, you’ll find that Sir Wulfsbayne isn’t quite right in the head, he has a blood lust, one that hasn’t been fed for awhile, and here was the prefect prey, all too willing to die for a worthless cause. His suds flattened along his serpentine, as the foal took her stance. Pity, isn’t something he felt, normally curiosity can save one from his clutches, but now that he is angered, there is know way to reverse the course this story is taking, except for his laziness he’s a busy man who doesn’t have time to run after foals on a worthless slaughter. His eyes narrowed as she gazed into the orbs of the studs.
Could she feel it, the fire, the rush, the blood pulsating through him like a liquid fire. Most stallion were not a match to his size and power, and this foal thought she stood a chance,. He laughed aloud, a short mad laugh of one who is crazed. Did she really think this was a good time to try and find her spine, he didn’t give a care about her life, it meant nothing to her, and she was going to test him. Now there is one easy satisfying outcome, as he thought of it, the mental pictures of his frontal daggers falling down on her spine, breaking her back, she would lay there helplessly as he would then collapse her throat, and leave her there in agonizing pain and suffering as she would slowly suffocate. Even now as he didn’t lay a hand on her she was dying, a fawn taken from its mother at such a young age had no choice, unless a magical mare came and adopted it. The kid was doomed. Maybe that’s why she came here, So the stallion could end her life before she starved to death. He spoke Do you know the punishment for trespassing in my lands dove?
Many say I am heartless, I suppose that sop, after awhile you get used to and in the end it feels like a complement. I stood there, satisfied in my gory as the young flicka headed me off. The nerve of this child. He stood, knowing and powerful, his muscles rippling under his pelt as his haunches tightened. The punishment of trespassing was death, these were his lands, and this damn filly thought she would challenge him, in his own lands. The flicka would be lucky if hunger killed her before he was done with her. He snarled, as she spoke You’re brainless father should have killed you before you found me, at least then you would have been lucky. The ruby creature moved close knowing that it wouldn’t even take have of the strength in his body to kill the foal. It seems you’re father wasn’t in fact so brainless if he killed your mother and left you to die of starvation, was he? Nor was he brainless in the fact of picking a fight with someone stronger than himself. You my dear seem to be lacking the brain power, did you get that from your mother, after all she was the bitch dumb enough to stay with your brainless father. His obsidian eyes glowered down at the kid, at the end of this she would be another fossil laying in the dust. The damn foal should have known better than to open her mouth, what use was she to him, she wasn’t old enough to breed, she wasn’t old enough to fight for him, she was nothing, she wasn’t even his spawn. Often times you will find that stallions will kill any foal that does not belong to him. What was she expecting. Am I supposed to commend you on your bravery before you die foal?
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Post by Kamenwati on Jul 17, 2008 16:26:42 GMT -6
.:.:.A lone figure moved with an elegant grace towards the lands of Mordrid Lake. The grace of an Arabian was what this mare is and will always be. Nares flared as she caught the scent of a stallion and a young flicka. So that's where she ran off too. That damned sister of hers. At least her mother was a fine broodmare unlike that weakling's mother. A sinister smile crept upon her lips as the bay vixen moved forwards passing the stallion and standing before the young flicka. So there you are. Father isn't very happy with you disappearing like that. She said hastely before turning to face the stallion. A dip of her crown was given in respect to the Rogue lead stallion. Greetings stallion, my curse is called Scuplted Love. And this young one is my half-sister Paloma. She said giving a nasty glare to the weakling. I assure you she wont be of a problem for much longer. The vixen said stepping to the side away from the white filly. Her gaze was set upon the stallion before her. At the age of 6 the arabian vixen trotted in place for a bit before ceasing her movements. A nasty glare was sent to the filly before returning her attention upon the stallion. M'Lord I am seeking place to reside within your lands. As a non-believer it would be wrong to reside in the lands where the gods live. If you need a member. I would be honored to reside here within these lands. Sculpted said as she dipped her skull to the king Apologies for her rude behavior, she has not yet been trained to learn respect. Scuplted replied.
Body shifted a bit as she stood just a few ways from the stallion. Her frame much smaller than his, but she packs a great deal of kicks if you get on her bad side. Though that wont be a problem for she's always a sadistic creature with a heart of gold. If that's possible. Someone who can be sadistic and warm at the same time. Banner shook ridding flies from her nape and face before settling still and awaiting any response from either of the two.:.:.
A devil glare was given as the stallion spoke, but before she could open her mouth a fresh familar stench entered her nares. An arabian figure entered the lands with elegant movements and strides that match of a fighter and a witch. Body shifted out of the grasp or face of the mare turning her attention away from the mare and stallion. "Hello to you to sister." She hissed under her breath. The fluff of her tail was given in disgust as the mare moved away giving distance between her and the stallion. Two chocolate/dark eyes flicked from stallion to mare before lowering back to the ground.
The look in her eyes showed hunger and she needed to feed. Just being a youngster nares flared as she sniffed the ground below her before taking a few bites. A disgusted look was upon her, but she decided to deal with it since there was no milk to be provided for her at this time. Soon the flicka swallowed letting the taste slide down her throat. Gaze lifted as she stepped back returning her body next to the tree she was laying beside. Leaning into it she kept her posture at bay and kept her gaze on watchful eyes of the stallion and her half-sister. *Word Count* 606 words 3180 characters *Mood* full of muse *ooc* Finished |
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