Post by Falcon on Apr 2, 2006 20:10:00 GMT -5
The raven pelted femme 3-beated into the lithosphere, inky tassles blown behind her, whipping at her crest. The cooling breeze lifted her locks, tossing them carelessly, then losing interest. She allowed her delicate tiara to pump with the motion of her canter. Steely daggars beat a pattern to the soft parchment. The loam cowered under her harsh blows, and the emeralds rippled around her hooves, hiding the crimson splotches that stained them, evidence of her many fights. Muscles rippled with power under her smooth covering, and banner blew out behind her.
Only the darkest shall approach me.. If they dare! she thought, scoffing.
A dark cloud filled her mind, sweeping an invisable breeze that chilled her dark heart. Orbs swept over the terra, seeming to look into every corner and crevice, missing nothing. A few trees with knarled trunks and jade leaves were scattered across the grassy plain, and the great orb sent warming rays on the loam, softening it. The bright stalks basked under the sun's light, and the trees stood tall.
Falcon slowed her gait to a two-step, pinons carrying her easily across the land. She seemed not to touch the emerald shoots, and the glare she sent over the claiming terrain demanded respect. A vision of elagence and grace, but also of death, if anyone should cross her.
The fae transferred her main weight to her hindquarters and halted, whipcord reaching forth to curl about her hocks, leaving a lingering sting and thin lines of crimson. She was not afraid of pain, for she feared nothing. Except.. She shook her dial to rid it of the annoying thoughts. She took a second to savour the pain, let it course through her.
Then, as if on cue, forequarters lifted and hindquarters bore her full weight. She clawed at the air's transparent flesh, talons grasping, slicing like a hot knife through butter. The fight for balance was over in a couple of second, in which Falcon pawed at the earth with steely flints.
Her peds met the geo once more, grabbing it with a deathly gripp. She stamped a hind pillar across the turf, as though to prove her point.
"Dare a stag of the dark alliance approach me?"
she asked the terrain, the sky, and any brute that would come. Had the privelidge, to come. Her tones were hissed through bloodstained ivors, the words sharp and commanding. She would be the mate of only the darkest in all the lands, and she hoped any stallion that came knew that.. Or they would regret coming.
Falcon arched her crest, lowering her crown towards her diaphagram, waiting. Waiting. Dare they come? Dare they hope?
Only the darkest shall approach me.. If they dare! she thought, scoffing.
A dark cloud filled her mind, sweeping an invisable breeze that chilled her dark heart. Orbs swept over the terra, seeming to look into every corner and crevice, missing nothing. A few trees with knarled trunks and jade leaves were scattered across the grassy plain, and the great orb sent warming rays on the loam, softening it. The bright stalks basked under the sun's light, and the trees stood tall.
Falcon slowed her gait to a two-step, pinons carrying her easily across the land. She seemed not to touch the emerald shoots, and the glare she sent over the claiming terrain demanded respect. A vision of elagence and grace, but also of death, if anyone should cross her.
The fae transferred her main weight to her hindquarters and halted, whipcord reaching forth to curl about her hocks, leaving a lingering sting and thin lines of crimson. She was not afraid of pain, for she feared nothing. Except.. She shook her dial to rid it of the annoying thoughts. She took a second to savour the pain, let it course through her.
Then, as if on cue, forequarters lifted and hindquarters bore her full weight. She clawed at the air's transparent flesh, talons grasping, slicing like a hot knife through butter. The fight for balance was over in a couple of second, in which Falcon pawed at the earth with steely flints.
Her peds met the geo once more, grabbing it with a deathly gripp. She stamped a hind pillar across the turf, as though to prove her point.
"Dare a stag of the dark alliance approach me?"
she asked the terrain, the sky, and any brute that would come. Had the privelidge, to come. Her tones were hissed through bloodstained ivors, the words sharp and commanding. She would be the mate of only the darkest in all the lands, and she hoped any stallion that came knew that.. Or they would regret coming.
Falcon arched her crest, lowering her crown towards her diaphagram, waiting. Waiting. Dare they come? Dare they hope?
