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Post by Ŧrέpαs on Oct 30, 2009 20:09:58 GMT -6
>> he'd wanted this for a long time. for as long as he could remember.
>>his steps were deliberate, rising and falling at a steady rhythm. he had finally succeeded. he was king. so no need to rush. cranium was perched high atop a thick, rippling boa, towers swaying too and fro. where were all the others? he had only seen few since his arrival here days ago. something was not right, and it bothered him. strange new things had begun happening to our dear trepas. isolation usually didn't bother him, but here, it was almost as if life ceased to exist. and that had to end. with new lands, and a new life, the brutus would start over. he had a rather clean slate...for now. but he did tend to make a quick first impression. quite stand-offish, he was, but that was just his way, no harm done. well...yeah, that was a lie. trepas has caused his fair share of harm. to others...and himself. a troubled bastard he was.
>>steady gait eventually brought the hellion to step foot upon the rocky lands. the lands where equines before him had lost their lives to the sheer cliff edge and the raging waters below. kissers lifted to the air, paperthins fluttered as he softly inhaled. ah, the sweet stench of victory. the smell of past equines still ingered, but it was faint. no one had called these lands home for quite a while. that was about to change. brutus would be sure of it. tossing his skull, he set into a calm three-beat, mounting the steep, rocky cliff in a flowing manner. he was a bastard, but a handsome one still. thank his mother and father. they were the ones to contribute to his pure lineage of gypsy vanner. czar spotted no others, none living, nor dead. irritation built up quickly, but soon dissapeared after a few long breaths. no need to get angry quite so soon. he would gather a band, and soon. lone bitches crawled about the free lands, just waiting to be adopted by some lead stag. and that dike, was trepas. he could turn on the charm quite fast, with his shimmering chocolate pools and painted coat of ebony and ivory. the vixens were usually easily obtainable, for they seemed to crave protection, they seemed desperate for it. but he most definately was not complaining. the hellion had yet to find a doll ever worthy of his love, but was hoping his search would be coming to an end, and quite soon.
>>daggers of ebony landed finally in the soft flesh of the mountain grass, sinking in slowly under his massive weight. chocolate gaze swept over the lands, aerials flipping backwards, the faint sound of the waterfall coming from far below and behind him. these lands were much to his liking. they would suit him perfectly. the journey up was difficult, but he enjoyed the climb. he would not tolerate weakness from his herd, so it would be the perfect challenge, seperating the strong willed from the craven weaklings. strong snort escaped his paperthins, skull being tossed in the mid-morning air. with a low nicker, he shifted his weight towards his back haunches, slowly standing to full height as his sharp flints pierced the air. vocal cords expanded, kissers parting to release an echoing scream. "i, trepas, claim southpaw cliff as my own. anyone who objects; speak now, or forever dwell in silence." with another strong snort, he dropped to all four. neck arched, he tossed his skull. long live your king.
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words: six - zero - two
puppet: trepas
puppeteer: wicked
notes: none =] |
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