|| fate [open] ||

[Sæsy™]

[xx] Amongst the dark, lifeless shadows, who would expect to see even the slightest trace of a living being? Pure blood pumping through live veins, powered by an empty heart that secretly longed for something more, but was forbidden to surpass anything but the rhythmic beating that it was condemned to continue for the rest of existence. That was her life... condemned to be one in a million, she supposed. But, there she was. She was so different, yet in her own self inflicting eyes she was no different from the nearest equine, breath by breath... pulse by pulse she matched all others around her. And yet, so at ease she was in this incorrect fact with herself that it never even closely grazed her mind that she was, in fact, different... quite different, but she was at home with the lie that she wasn't. For some reason, every scar she obtained was upon her belly and beneath her chest, hidden from view unless she was to lay down in the sod, exposing her underbelly for all to see. Only one scar exceeded the forbidden boundaries of her back, making itself seen upon her shoulder, crawling across her chest all the way to the opposite side. A eternal mark of shame, reminding her of her past life; which lay forgotten in the dust.

[xx] Muscles churned beneath the shining bay exterior, like fluid fused to work in harmony with one another to move her lean bodice like a smooth phantom across the ground. Long tresses bounced upon her shoulders, their length a mile long, so to speak, as the ends of her tassels grazed the bottom of her shoulders, her forelock ending only slightly past the beginning of her maw, some ends reaching down just above her lip. Like a masquerade they were cast over her coal, abysmal eyes, hiding them from sight with a sinister, solemn appearance. Even the tassels of her tail kissed the bottom of the ground, sliding softly over tall grasses that exceeded in length to touch the coarse hairs of her banner. Her crown was carried low as she moved, her breath coming softly and easily as she paced herself, peering from behind her masking threads to the dreary world around her. Shadows filled every possible space, slipping like a raven blanket over her own dark hide, camouflaging her from the world. Disinteresting, boring...indifferent. The lands did little to stir her interests, but would the occupants be the same?

[xx] Along her motions, there was a sudden break in the rhythm of her movements. Muscles in her shoulder flinched and contracted, and the demoness lifted slowly the afflicted piston that had caused her the discomfort. Peering down beneath her dagger, there was a distinct, wet crimson dripping upon the ground, where consequently a sharpened rock protruded from the ground. A throbbing sting wracked the nerves of her own foot as more crimson dripped upon the ground, and yet...the expression upon her face was unchanged and monotonous, as if the pain wasn't even present. She moved her dagger away from the stone, and placed it with all of her weight upon the ground. There was, indeed, a quite strong stinging sensation to accompany this action, but it was bearable. She jogged on, with the same movements as she had to continue the constant rhythm, despite the pain that was there alongside her actions. But pain...it was only a distraction, and her own was so minor that she might laugh at the thought of limping. Infact, it was little more than a tiny fish in the ocean of her life; why bother herself by limping indignantly?

[xx] This trek she was one across these lands...she had yet to find something of interest. Everywhere she looked, there were the same peering, yellow eyes of predators that you would encounter in the terrain of others. She brought herself to a stop, looking behind her own traces...there was curved, crimson tracks behind her where the wound upon the bottom of her flint still bled freely and slowly, staining the ground with the essence of her life blood. She new there was a lead demon. His stench was close and strong, so his own presence couldn't be so distant from her own. Though, her patience was long, so she stood idle, casting her solemn stare upon the horizon. What the future held for her was beyond the unknown, but perhaps...good things would come to those who wait. But she did not believe in good things, so why should she wait? Smirk crossed her maw, pistons raising herself into the air, pawing at the enveloping shadows like a she was fighting them off.

[xx] Venom-dripping call filled the air, her scanners flicking over the boring lands. So different, so similar. She flicked her long threads, out of her eyes only for the breeze to swing them back in place. Rumble escaped her chest, deep and booming; truly dark. She raised her injured dagger to relieve some of the weight, allowing the pooling scarlet liquid to fall freely to the earth. Then, she lowered it once more, shifting herself to place her weight back on all fours. The banshee looked up from her intense stare on the stained sod, no emotion on her blank yet terrifying features. She could hear another equine, the rhythmic hoof-beats loud in her pinned auds. She awaited the arrival silently, never shifting her bodice, still as a statue in the cold, uninviting moonlight.

OOC: Tell me if I made a mistake. It's late, lol.

[ღ Carhartt ღ]

K L E P T O N I O

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He'syour[glow=red,2,300]worse[/glow]nightmare....[/size]

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X.x.X Atmosphere was musty with heat as the heavens were rather clear with little clouds within the bright aquatic hue the heavens possessed. The breeze was dead as nothing rustled with life within the forestry as the only sounds were fowl and a small stream trickling with Rainbow Trout fighting the current within the clear crisped aqua. The forestry seemed rather life filled today, something Kleptonio hated. Life itself was a pregnant dog, at least in his blood thirty optics, so intimidating. Kleptonio was slowly taking step forth worth in a walking pace just roaming around the realms besides the Nördlich or the Östlich realms. If he did he never knew what he might do—Kill… Well he knew but he needed to keep himself for cause an abrupt out break of the war that was already growing into a huge conflict. Kleptonio’s mind was wandering about life actually and where he was headed. He was thinking about Tonstalotion. If he should turn on the Soth at the last minute or him and his brother both rule over all the corners and spilt it in half and they could still be alliance. Kleptonio was positive the Westen and Soth would conquer Nördlich and Östlich because they were absolute push overs and I mean just look at Kleptonio. He was huge, his whithers stood at 16.3 and he was still growing—hell he looked like he took steroids.

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X.x.X Slowly Kleptonio kept the slow pace as his lengthy whipcord that was gleaming with lustrous manner to the dreads that was flowing in the dead breeze as he held his whipcord high in pride, he had every right to. He took confident and long stride of a walk with his over sized pistons that pressed the soil down a good inch every stepped he took. Scullery held high in a proud manner as his nape was arched perfectly with his brawns bulged. Muscles rippled beneath his ebony kissed belt with each steep he took. Nose flared quickly as he took in any scent that was any threat, though he feared none. As his pistons struck the moist soil leaving tracks behind he softly let a sigh surpass his nostrils in dismay of boredom. He knew he should be head back to the Westen realms; he most defiantly was NOT looking for a fea as he could careless about them. He was unique. He didn’t want a fea along side of him—he wanted him, he, and himself and that was that.

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X.x.X Suddenly his nostrils flared and his came to a sudden stop. His pelt twitched as muscles urged him to make a move as his optics widened with their deep maroon hued color. Picking up his over sized piston he stood not moving a single bone though his muscled twitched beneath his pelt just urging him to move. Letting a loud snort he softly tossed his scullery as the long and lengthy banner followed as it was long past his nape and his long ebony forelock slapped the tips of his maw. His optics landed upon, a fea. Rolling his optics he kept walking by. Every equine knew of him as most feared him—good. He walked past the fea without caring as he heard her break into a second beat not glancing at her. Slowly his over sized bodice made its way to the aqua of a stream the flowed. Dipping his maw to it he softly sucked it up to sooth his parched vox as he forelock touched the top of the aqua soaking it along with his banner. Kleptonio could careless of this fea—he was not looking for the bull shit called, ‘love’--Or was he?

[Sæsy™]

[xx] She did not flinch as the large stag passed by, her gaze did not waver. Her demonic orbs were still fixed upon the foliage, although they glanced towards the newcomer, nothing in her stance showed fear or surprise. Wilde had been born a fighter, and she herself stood a proud 15.5 hands in height, tall enough for her plans. Any stag that tried to force her into something would have to fight her first. She bore scars and muscles, although not as much as the new stag, who she had sensed a dark aura about. So said muscles churned as she shifted her form, pressing her afflicted piston against the ground as the crimson seeped from under her hoof. A slight flinch, nothing else, showed her discomfort.

[xx] The silence was broken once more as Wilde turned and moved towards the cool aqua as the stranger had done so only a few minutes before. Regal crown was lowered so she could gulp the much needed mouthfuls of clear, pristine liquid. The freezing water hit her belly with force, refreshing and awakening her. Once weakened frame, from hunger and thirst, was pulled forward into the stream, washing the grime and dirt from her dark bay coat as she moved forward. Her movements were monotone, no expression or emotion, not even showing the slight stinging of her hind hoof. Her attention was fixed on staying in one place, the slight current tugging at her, pushing her along a few inches before she found her footing and planted herself central. She almost seemed to be ignoring the tall, muscular stallion.

[xx] What did she have to fear? Her battle scars proved that she was a seasoned warrior, and she was fast and agile for her seven years. Run whilst you can... a favorite saying of her's. Most of her opponents had enough sense left to flee after she was done with them; some where stupid enough to stay, others didn't have the strength or were already dead. Whatever happened, she was there, taunting them, using her deadly speed to finish them off. She hadn't always been so strong. As a foal she was weaker, tall and lanky compared to her dam. Something about this bronc drew her attention, and though she resisted it, she couldn't help but glance up. He held a leaders' aura, something few had. His expression would make even the darkest equines shiver. But not Wilde. She returned the cold stare steadfastly.

[xx] He was indeed a good deal more muscled and held quite a lot of height on her. But if he dared try to hurt the apparently vulnerable fae before him, he would be in for a shock. Which gave her nothing to fear. A deep lungful of air showed her nobody else was around, her ears laid flat against her elegantly carved crown, giving her perfect hearing for the surrounding area. Even the tiny snap of a twig she could here. She reared her head and waded her way out of the stream, scrambling up the bank and moving evenly towards the emerald stalks, lowering her tiara to feed. Once full, the minx snorted and allowed her disturbingly sweet vocals forth; drawing equines into their depths. "I take it your not here for the scenery?" Her tone was inquiring, and a glance around the deary clearing showed the meaning behind her words. She was not one for long, grand speeches. She had no need for them. If a simple phrase would do, why bore everyone with two pages of ramblings?