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Post by kudos on Jan 29, 2006 16:32:13 GMT -5
The moderatly framed vixen limped into the terra, for not but a week before she had been in an unfortanate involvment. Her maw twisted slightly at the rememberance of the great pain that came to her when her so called accident happened. A sick white ooze came from her broken down fore pillars. They had not completly healed, nor would they ever heal to what they where. Every step that she took led in a pleasurable pain. The quils of the beast that she had landed from drooped slightly, but in a steady wave like motion as a dead breeze skimmed by them.
Slowly she lowered her maw, opening her kissers revealing crimson tainted ivorys, her dial was bent at her boa, at a very unusual angle and the snap of a vertabrae could be heard echoing through the army of timbers. Her enamals grasped the quils and in one swift movement removed the five that where left. A deep bellow escaped her kissers as she flung her dial up, banner in a disorganized array of dreads. Her pelt did not glisten in the light as one might expect. No, for it was unhealthy, un-natural.
She would not call for a brute, no she would not bring herself whining and snivling like the others did. She did not wish to have the company of the stallion, but the lands pushed for it, so she would obey with regret. The lone vixen stood as the great orb in the sky slowly faultered and was gone. She sucked in a deep breath of the night, the evil, of satan. How she loved him deeply. If only she where the spawn of him...if only. The thorns upon her crown laced back, flat against her skull. Her dark slates darted and saught something to kill, but there was none in the wretched lands. If only her pedigree hadn't been tainted with the lights!
She threw her her dial, her kissers rolled back, her slates exposed their whites. HOW DARE THEY make a fool out of thier own flesh and blood! HOW DARE THEY make a fool of themselves! If she could only turn back the clock of time and kill them both, feast upon their rotting flesh! How she would take great pleasure in it. But what had happend! They drove her from the herd, which was good, for she hated the lights! How she wanted their kind to suffer!
She stood as almost tired from her thoughts, her flanks heaving as she took in her oxygen.
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Post by kudos on Feb 9, 2006 22:48:30 GMT -5
She took a large and tentative step forth, her dagger slicing the delicate balance of plant life and animal life. Her own elemental spirit was part of this balance but wish nothing of it. Her darkened obules darted in a sea of dusty air, for the drought that had stricken the lands was stirring up the large round ball that spun in the universe of endless stars. Its own protective ozone layer depleted by the very beings that lived upon her lands.
The vixes dead pelt lay agains her hot epidermis. The slight flake of skin flirted with the air until it violently hit the earth, taken by gravities force. A single droplet of saliva dropped the the vixens maw. A crimson tained look to it appeared if one had looked close enough, although she had not recently fed on the life of a living soul, it was as if she was forever burdened to bleed. In such a way that the dark cold and invaciouse life of her was being drained slightly evermore every day of the whicked life she held in her.
Not a single brute dared to see the vixen. What had she thought they would be flocking around her but no...no they wouldn't. Thier own corpses would not be bothered with such a vix...tainted as she was. Her own pedigree in a forever mauling thought in her mind. How she wished she could leave it to burn in damnation and hell forever more.
The high timbers stood abover her, wilted and dry. Although it was summer the drought had taken all moisture from the lands of which she placed her daggers upon. The vixen laced back her audits as she thought of the scarce provisions of living flesh of which she wanted to feed upon. How she would suck in the damned creatures metalic crimson liquid.
A shrill scream escaped her maw as she raised her bodice into the air, striking at the heavens with her daggers and seemingly challenged God himself. The light dust danced and chanted as she remaned in the reared position striking endlessly. Her nares flared as she took in sents of her surroundings. The dead and dry grass which lay on its side defeated and morbid, the timbers dry and brittle which their leaves had began to fall after the prolongued heat. Her bodices slamed into the ground as she had inted it to be. She hated herself and loved the pain that kept her company through the long times of which no one had made contact with her. How it was her closest friend. She lay her diaphram heaving as she took in her oxygen and released her own tainted carbon dioxide. If a brute where to come now, perhaps they may be able to master the spirit of the mare, but if they gaver her a chance...perhaps that would not happen in their life time...
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Post by anauma on Mar 4, 2006 18:20:55 GMT -5
A shrill scream replied, a scream of a dark bound and loyal to his side. The shrill call echoed about the Land of Claimence and he rose on his black pillars, dark eyes gleaming. His mighty flints blew kicks at nothing at all.
'Lo, milady.
So, this femme was vain. Perhaps expecting more stags than he? Most likely. But he was the only stag there in the Land of Claimence near her.
What is your cursing?
From the way she looked he could tell that she was a dark. He only claimed dark mares as his own and this one was perfect for his herd, for Kembolia.
I be Anauma.
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Post by kudos on Mar 4, 2006 20:37:11 GMT -5
The shrill scream of death echo'ed through the hellish lands. The dry air seemed to carry his call futher, although he had strong vocals...yes yes he did. The timbers quivered as the scream carried on through their branches, into their seemingly brittle bones.
she took a stance, on guard, for all darks where constantly on guard. How she had waited so long...so long to hear a stag, to hear another equine. Her own vocals ached to create a sound of communication, but they could not...how she hated it. A light hiss escaped her maw as her kissers curled back exposing her crimson tainted enamels. Her audits laced back upon her crown and her matted banner lay limply as she arched her boa in sheer surprise. Her fore pillars stood sturdily, a white ooze had almost stopped seeping from their openings.
Her audits then rose catching his wretched words. They swiveled as they took in the information. They then lay back down upon her crown once more. No she was not dumb, for she had once been able to speak, and she had full capabilities of understanding what was said to her...every word. A sly smirk played across her maw and her blackened slates rolled to expose her whites.
She tried to speak, her maw obviously open in an attempt to create sound, of which to communicate, but all that came out was a slight scream, barely auditable.
Her heart burned with hatred against it, throwing her dial violently from side to side she shook it, as a wolf would shake its kill. She finally stopped her flanks heaved as she was more worn out by the attempt to speak rather than her violent thrashing.
Her dial still held high, she curled back her kissers and exposed her crimson tainted enamels once more. Gently nodding her dial towards the stag. Would he know that the fair young vix was a mute?
ooc- sorry no muse lol.
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Post by anauma on Mar 4, 2006 21:02:04 GMT -5
x. it's ok.. .x
He was engaged in confusion's services. He had seen her try to speak but she only screamed. What could be happening?
He had seen her toss her head, shake it furiously, and he was hoping against hope that it was not meant toward himself. She had barely made a sound. What could this mean?
A single word was thought of, the only word that could be thought of.
Mute.
If he claimed her he would live forever without knowing her name, without hearing what she wanted. Yet this did not matter--she was perfect. Perfect Dark. x.museless me.x
He trotted forward, unspeaking. He would speak only in her language.
He bowed slightly, arching his neck as a sign of respect. He flicked his ears back to show he understood. Then he made signs with his ears and eyes to ask silently, Do you have a home?
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Post by Sequin on Mar 4, 2006 23:14:16 GMT -5
[Kudos is with Suv. atm, Kudos please post when you leave]
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Post by kudos on Mar 5, 2006 1:01:30 GMT -5
[No I'm not with him anymore, he is not active...]
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Post by kudos on Mar 5, 2006 1:08:53 GMT -5
She was drawn to the stag, it was as though a flicker of understanding came between him and her. Her eyes clouded over with hate, for she wasn't always as a mute. If only her parents...
Her soul fought violently and ripped and tore the vixen in different directions. But yet she kept her slates on the dark stag. Silently she recovered herself taking in his signals, he had understood, he had comunicated with her.
Gently she swivled her ears, and different body stances where shown: A home I have not... If the vixen could have vocalized it would have been raspy with vengance upon the lights and all they lived for. But t'was not to be.
Nervously the vixen took a step forth, her fore pillar obviosly shaking with fear yet respect. She was not a large vixen, rather small, stunted from long years without the proper nourishment of vegitation, but rathemore the flesh and metalic liquid crimson of the ones she fed upon.
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Post by anauma on Mar 5, 2006 3:11:06 GMT -5
The stag watched her, meeting her eyes, his own just an icy stare. When she spoke her silent language he bobbed his head, understanding, then looked back toward Kembolia. As he did so a long scar down his neck opened up and the blood began to flow slowly. The red blood was a startling contrast to his pitch black coat, and he returned to look at her again. She took a step forward and his gaze softened, encouraging her.
A few moments later his neck was blood stained and his mane was slightly matted with the red liquid, giving him a slightly sinister look. He seemed not to notice, but there was a twinge of something in his eyes that was unfamiliar... unrecognizable... unable to identify.
Instead of shaking the blood off, the stag stood completely still. The blood began to lessen and then only leaked off in little droplets.
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Post by kudos on Mar 6, 2006 18:43:36 GMT -5
Her dark an inquisite slates strained to see the newly open scar flow with the new birth of crimson. Her own mind wondered as a light cascade dripped from his boa to the moisture hungry soils. How she loved the taste of the pure enlightenment of the crimson which lay before her. Though she herself could not bring herself to attempt to feed upon the one who was most likly to take her own corpse in.
A deep exhale expelled her rotten stench of Carbon Dioxide. Her audits still lay laced flat against her crown, as custom permitted in the darks. Her pelt shimmered dimly in the less than adequate light. Her once shimmering pelt had grown unkept and dirty, thus it became unhealthy, unhealthy as the things she fed upon.
The vixens slates took in more information as the brute swung his dial forth to his lands of which he had come from. Thus opening is wound further...a deep secret lay behind it, but she cared none of past. She had been a victem of its cruel hand.
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Post by anauma on Mar 6, 2006 19:42:28 GMT -5
He saw her looking at his blood and he turned his neck so that the flow began again. Then he shook his mane so that the blood would fly toward her, and she'd be able to catch the droplets on her tongue midair.
The ebonite stallion made gestures and motions that told her, Drink if you like.
He dipped his dial to lick some blood off of his foreleg.
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Post by kudos on Mar 7, 2006 22:24:15 GMT -5
Her blackened slates rolled into her skull, thier white fleshy inards making their appearnce upon their seemingly well laid out stage. She herself had not tasted the crimson of her own kind for some time now... How, when the time that once was, she had greatly devoured the life of her own father and mother...lights. A grimmace of discust lit her dial, for she hated the lights and what had become of the many darks that had now chosen their side.
She needed not a second chance to take forth her small corpse and throw it towards the great brute that stood before her, offering her his own crimson. He dial snaked out as her matted banner swept up royaly and then came to a jerking stop as she did. Her kissers parted and her sweet tongue inched forward towards the brutes opened wound. Her rosy tongue lapped gently upon the great scar that once was, but now was a great torrent of liquid crimson.
Her audits slowly slunk from thier manditory laced back position and stood proudly as two towers upon her crown. Her gently sloping forehead proudly showed off a thickly made fetlock. Her slates grew less hard and more affectionate towards the brute that had so kindly offered himself to her.
Silently she steped back, drawing her toungue once more back into her kissers. She lowered her slightly dished profile of a dial down towards the earth, in utter thanks of his gratitude. Her audits swivled and danced upon her crown: I shall go to you "lands" if you wish me to...
[sorry no muse lol]
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Post by anauma on Mar 8, 2006 0:29:47 GMT -5
The pain roared through his body and a relaxed shiver rolled through it. An ear swept back self-consciously at her offering. His tongue darted out from his maw to swipe gently, swiftly on her shoulder. His eyes widened, startled, at the taste. It was strong, like wine. It had a certain appeal to it that shocked him. He had tasted the blood of too many to count, and this femme's blood tasted like none other. His kissers parted slightly, savoring the bittersweetness. Then his curvature drew back as he felt her shift. As she 'spoke,' he gave her a sideways glance.
Only if I wish? Of course, yes. But it is your decision to make. He turned away to trot a little ways away, then he turned (like in Kudos' pic) to look at her, his soft chocolate orbs drilling into her own, awaiting an answer.
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Post by kudos on Mar 9, 2006 23:28:43 GMT -5
The vixens small frame shifted its weight from its right pillars to then of its left. Her dicsion had been made. She had been waiting much to long for a brute like the one that now stood before her. Why wouldn't she go? How couldn't se go with one who craved the taste of crimson upon his own maw just as she did. The thought didn't even cross her mind of staying in the wretched place where lights often lingered.
She took a forceful step forward, pain racing up her fore pillars, and a sly and grim "smile" crossed her maw. For how pain was her best of friends.
She gently forced herself into a faster pace, two beating now towards the brute that was to take her to his lands....
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Post by anauma on Mar 10, 2006 11:28:34 GMT -5
Glad you're here,
he said softly, his voice barely audible. Only the most extreme senses would hear his voice. He gave her a message with his head, Hope you like Kembolia.He waited a while for her to catch up, then matched her gait, striding, stalking. He picked up his feet high, and GUESS WHAT?! HE STEPPED IN THE MUD PUDDLE!!! [ sry couldn't help it lol ]
The mud arced neatly in the air, and landed with a splat on his scar. He had always loved pain, but after he had looked at Kembolia his scar was sizzling. Literally. The cool mud cooled it down and gave him more pain both. It felt soooooo good...
He felt an incredible urge to roll, but he didn't. He wanted to continue on to Kembolia. He did not want to get a serious infection where he could possibly die.
The mud peeled off and soon his scar was sizzling again, dirty. He spotted a rainwater puddle, large, silvery, and he glided through it like a ghost it was so smooth. He dipped his neck in and the dirt cleared as did the sizzles. He continued striding with her, and then saw Kembolia.
A dark swamp with much water. Some clear, some dirty, but they looked identical in every way in that they were black and deep. He saw some shady trees and a thornberry bush. The grass was slightly wet by the shores of the two lakes, but beneath the trees it was sweet and slightly juicy. The thornberries were blackberries, and Anauma liked blackberries a great deal, plus it was painful to get them. The swamp was filled with flies that bit and spat, an extra pain. Beneath the shady trees, they were not there, however. He awaited her reaction.
He stepped out of the light into the darker side. He wondered what the mare thought. Immediately he felt guilty. He would have to give her a name, even if it wasn't her real one.
[blechy post but it'll do]
x. From this point on you are in Kembolia!! *ushers you along* .x
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