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Post by .cay on Jun 3, 2011 17:07:01 GMT -7
His meandering pawfalls dripped over the emerald platform. The air rushed about his elegant white bodice and toyed with his whip, skipping in and out of his headphones, rippling in the brute's pearl necklace. Each step sent a thunder of anxiety skywards in the form of echoing thuds. His flashing amythyst lenses contracted with each turn, as the lupe dabbled through different shafts of light. Once in a while, snowy cord would lash in frustration, radar would pin to skull.
I thought it was close... why is she taking so long? Frustration abound. Surely she's conscious and whelping...
His kissers slid backwards enough to slice the air with sharp, premordial canines. The soft snarl that ensued was all but caught up in the wind. Every syllable of anger ws burned out, eaten alive like a carcass by vultures on a parapet. The sound was spine-tingling. Nerve-wracking. Peace-shattering. The man, although impatient, understood well enough each contrast and difficulty with which the situation called for. Yes, he understood.
Suddenly, a shrill wail shot through the air. Casire was on his paws in seconds, after temporarily taking a leave of respite on massive haunches. Casire. Casire? That was the feminine calling for her master. He started towards the girlish enclosure. Oh, Casire, [/b] it echoed, each word bringing the stag closer to his captured. Something terrible has happened![/b] It was shrill. Cas stopped short. Instinct wanted to fly his feet in the tangy, irony, blood-scented dennance before a heart beat could thunder, but gut feeling made his swiftness wrought with caution. He slipped into shadow. Sliding silently into the den, he was confronted with a shocking sight; the vixen had indeed given birth. As he stepped forward towards them, he took in the state of his femme. She stood carefully looking at the enterance with a half-distraught, half-smirk plastered to her muzz. Interested and vaguely annoyed, the white demon switched his steps and slunk beside the new dam. He crawled right up to her harks, dripping open jowls bared in menace. What is your, emergency, Gematria? His voice was a hiss hardly above a whisper, as the shadows dissolved around him.[/size][/blockquote]
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Post by ` k i w i ` on Jun 3, 2011 21:37:04 GMT -7
A tight, empty tomach lurches as a feeling of danger grips my bodice, leaving me with the feeling of the deer that narrowly misses a passing car. My thick heart beats a million miles an hour, sending red blood cells and adrenalin on a crash course through my tight veins. , mixing into a bittersweet cocktail in my capillaries. Gazers as dark as the night sky gleam with a sudden anger, as blue frosted white harks pick up the waves emitted by the lordly stag.
"My emergency," the words taste like a mixture of bitter chocolate and salty anger, "My emergency is that I have produced your devil spawn." I push my heavy bodice through the thickening shadows and hover myself over the pile of pups. I nose of little fur ball in turn, first the grey, then white, then blue. "Look," I purr softly, completely out of my mind, fallen head over paws for the little puff balls before me. "Three," I continue on in a happy tone, "Three little femmes." Blue eyes glazed in the mode of mothering, my tender muzzle lifts the blue cub and settles her in a different position. Settling my queer hued body beside my miscreant children, I curl myself around them, in a sort of group cuddle. "Aren't they beautiful?"
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Post by .cay on Jun 12, 2011 21:28:20 GMT -7
My stomach ties tight in a knot of fury. As I nose over the three little bundles, only one scent burns up my scenters. Femelle. I want to stomp around in anger, possibly rip something bloody apart and wear the ruby liquid like gems on my bodice. How could it be? She must not be done pupping yet. They were all faelets, all of them! How in h e l l does that happen?
Where is my son, vocal chords tear out in malice. I was near taking each one of these pitiful scraps of fur and throwing them into the jungle for the cats who stalk me. Let them taste, my blood, mon sang, and perhaps they would be satisfied. My kisser is a whorl of danger as it folds across bared daggers. Glinting pearls, I walk stiff-legged towards the vixen that dares call these biological failures, beautiful. Beautiful, my arse.
I look down at a small grey ball of fur, who is looking up at me with piercing blue eyes. I growl and grab her out of her mothers' small embra and drag her to the middle of the platform for inspection. Much to my surprise, she doesn't squirm or squeal, but just stares up at me with those eyes. The gods whispered to me my name, [/b] she murmurs. Brows furrowed, I watch her continue. Gem Of The Apocalypse. I am a weapon to wield.[/b] She looks so godd a m n sincere. Fighting the urge to tip my head in pensieve thought, I roughly check her over, after instantly percieving her to be the smallest in the litter. She looked in almost perfect health, so far as I could say, anyways. I was no medicine pony. The growl flames out of me towards all of them, and I stalk back over to Gem. I prod her gently on the shoulder and glare down at her. Your answer?[/size][/blockquote]
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Post by ` k i w i ` on Jun 17, 2011 22:23:14 GMT -7
My blue hued body stiffens and a growl wells up in my dry throat, ready to be released in a flash quicker than the speed of light as the ghost white beast picks up the ash colored pup and mulls over her existence. I feel sorry for her instantly, being so close to such a monster, and having his own blood run through her veins much be terrible painful. My coat quivers in a shudder at the though, hoping that she never have to suffer for her sirs deeds, but knowing damn well the they all would.
I raise my bodice and nose the little bundles around a bit before I decide to answer the brute. "I guess ... You have missed it this time. Maybe your seed is not worthy of a masculine offspring," my voice is chill and my tone is sharp as icy daggers.
Out of the corner of my crystal gazers, I see a movement of blindingly pure white. The small pup crawls closer and nudges my big paw with her small square nose. I lift my pad and smolic her fluffy cuff with my long pink tongue, comforting the distressed offspring. With a happy grunt, the little cub moves on to her next target. She crawls slowly and deliberate toward the dark monster that is her sir, inching closer every second. A bad feeling seizes my insides, and I feel like may burst into unhappy tears, afraid that my little pups may soon be destroyed. I move a single thick paw to move her away, but I am too late. She reaches her mystically white sir, and licks his large paw with her little pink tongue. I am instantly stricken with feelings of grief and fear as I look upon the three. They look perfect, in an creepy kind of way.
A chill shivers down my spin, deep, down to the bone. A dark lord, and two of his spawn. A large white wolf and a smaller image of himself, a little splash of grey. I turn away, looking back at the last of the pups. The little blue cub sits very still, curled up and sleeping.
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Post by .cay on Jul 17, 2011 22:45:58 GMT -7
Her words are sharp to my ears, and I turn to look at her. Maybe your seed is not worthy of a masculine offspring, she dares to say. I start to inch closer to her as a bundle of small chromosomes and genetic material stumbles my way. My ears flatten as she darts her tongue across my paw, a tiny miniature of my own visage. It is like I am looking into one of those circus mirrors, that distorts size and features and shows you the horrible and grotesque images of what you could be in another life. This is what I see before me; a distortion of who and what I am, packaged into a bite sized morsel.
Though, as the faelets eyes lock with mine, and she seeks acknowledgement, I am shaken. This wasn't just a fae I happened across in my travels. She was a part of my lineage, which was strong, pure, and full of historic figures. Then again, my face curls in a sneer as I peer over the pup to her mother, thinking about her less than half-pure bloodlines.
I snap back to the scrap at my feet and decide to stoop to her level. Muscles in my back ripple as I lean to her face, inquisitive. She was formed well, a good prospect for a bright future and good looks. I narrow my eyes pensively. My gaze slides to her sibling, still curled at my side, peering over at her sister carefully from my shadow. I lift a hind foot and push her roughly back closer to her mother. The she-pup yelps quietly and half rolls to the older faes side. I am very disinterested.
And what might your name be, little flea? Level and smooth, the words tumble out of my mouth as soon as I can process the action. I am looking to the snowy child, realising my misstep a moment too late.
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Post by ` k i w i ` on Aug 6, 2011 14:16:00 GMT -7
Secretive sounds of small insects fluttering wings and little mammals hurried heart beats assaulted the young lupine's small harks, producing a burning sensation of curiosity. Large circlets painted a light violet hue set upon a back drop of snow white. The small ball of clean fur thrust up a nose of ebony and gently tested the air.
"Call me now 'Little Flea', but we will soon discover who the true parasite is." The petite white wolf whispered, a look of innocence glittering in her crystal irises. The little pups nose twitched once more ass she bowed her head and nibbled on her sires large paw. "I have yet to choose myself a name to suit my liking, but for the moment I have grown used to the tagging of 'Rhy'." the offspring looked up once more, flashed her father a cute, toothy smile, and then scuttled off to play between her mothers paws.
I shocked expression splashed across my features as I watched one of my three offspring daringly lap at the waters of sarcastic conversation. I shifted my weight uncomfortably from my left to my right and then to my left again. The immense need to speak up, and take hold of the situation at hand myself was unbearable, but instead of causing more trouble for myself, I rose on my paws. A small shadow was cast upon the back of my den and I moved my multi-hued body to a comfortable place in the back. I was tired and in no need to fight any longer with my own fate.
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Post by .cay on Aug 18, 2011 10:54:59 GMT -7
Her words plague my harks, slithering down them and settling into my gut like an unappetising rodent. My maw snaps into a snarl and I stretch opalite kissers tightly back over morbid daggers. Mood swings instantly into undesireableness and I watch her flit away. I crouch low to the ground and stare down the three little fur clumps. Their mother shifts precariously, watching the whole episode, then turns and espaces into the shadows of her den.
I have no words to say and whip backwards. Striding purposefully and instantly, inky blackness erupts where I used to stand, and no longer am visible. The sky is my ocean, and I desire to drown. The itch ripples through my coat, tugging playfully at my mind. It caresses me in gentle strokes, murmuring words of pleasure into icy harks. But a small flame fights back the voice, I can't. Not to blood. Or can I? The unspoken words of my ancestors overflow and unconsciously, my claws are no longer sheathed. Glee washes over me, images flickering like a filmstrip across a pale visage. I am a proponent of the past, carefully cultured to the wavering future. There is no intent but game in my blood. It is only a game. I am the only player. All others are merely... Points.
I snap, stopping in midair and falling metres upon metres before pulling up carefully and landing in a towering tree, where I could look over the entirety of my power. Hmph. Indecision is for the futile.
Blue paws scrabble to a stand and I stare around me. My sisters were far from my sight, and I could not place my mother at all. Huffing, I spin about on darkening poles. I had watched my father dissipate into the treetops, and could not place where he might be now. Flickering, I dart forward and almost tumble off the edge of the precipace. Backing up slowly, I look for relief. There; A small walkway that lead hellwards. I slide down the steep incline and come to a tumbling stop as my boots give way and I roll head over tail until the hard, vine and rooted ground stills me. Dizzy, shaken, but still curious.
A million sounds serenade me, lulling me forward and further and further away from my small home. Light shines distantly near the edge of the seemingly infinite trunks and growth. A screech alerts me to a brightly coloured winged thing, which flaps around my face for a moment before speeding off. I split in a grin and continue towards the light. Surely our world was finite. My pawfalls tattoo faster on the mudded ground.
word count 446 / character count 2,500 muse just lose it par eminem && early sunsets over monroeville par my chemical romance
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Post by ` k i w i ` on May 1, 2012 17:34:10 GMT -7
I pace the back of my den, wondering what to do next. I was a captive, who was forced to rear young, which were with me now. What was I to do now? Wait out my days in what was probably going to be pain? No, that sounded no good, and very unlike myself. Rocking back on my haunches, I contemplated my fate.
Dainty paws tiptoe to the outer rim of my lodging, teetering on toe-end I look about the outside. Everywhere is green and wild and exciting and all at the same time curious and scary. Perking my harks, I take note of one of my siblings making an escape.
"Wait!" I holler, hoping to get the pups attention.
Taking pursuit, I tread on hastened paws. tripping over a gnarled knot in the wooden trail, I fly over the cliff-like structure. Falling, I think surely it will be to my death.
Sorry, it is all I can muster. I'm sure you wont mind having SOMETHING to respond to?
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Post by .cay on Jul 11, 2012 20:36:52 GMT -7
Watching, unwillingly, heliotrope windows ravaged the scene before them. Here, on a seemingly silver platter, lay the solution to his tempermentally driven problem. A feline grin erupted forth from pastille kissers. Each sordid point grazed the lower cliff, with infintesimate pressure perilously close to drawing blood.
She slid like a dancer tumbling over the edge with the grace of a ballerina, and there was a small poetic beauty about it.
Suddenly, as if a marionette, the man shot forwards, wings tumultulously beating at the resisting sky. Sparking back into existence those dangerously sharp ivories locked onto the scruff of the falling dancer. As if by their own accord, they held on just tight enough to still be considered gentle. There was no thought to the action, save the ignition of a greater soul reaching withered, furry white paws from the past, into the present.
He landed like a dove, soft and fleeting, dropping his prize in shock as he felt a strange and flighty feeling of standing in two coats at once.
The world shimmered, unlocked between the past and the present. A wind blew through time, and the pale silhouette felt as if he had suddenly grown three inches in fur. Feeling like a small wooly mammoth, violet gazers peered downwards to notice great, powerful paws that shimmered overtop of his slight, summer-coat and trim ones. A stray thought fluttered across his vision. Power of the moon... and an overwhelming sense of safety for family shot through his countenance. And then it was quiet.
Casire felt his jaw slack, and snapped together the accusing appendages at once. There was a small creature on the ground in front of him, that he recognised with a sick apprehension, as his daughter. What in the name of bloody sam hell was that?! What was, that, 'power of the moon'? He stood confused for a moment, looking strangely at the tiny form in front of him.
In a grumbling growl, he leant down towards the little femme. "Are you alright?" was the grudging remark. Why was he asking this? Apocalyptic Mystic Desire felt that strange tug of time again, and tried to put it out of his mind. Concern washed thinly over him, and he wondered if his young offspring was in shock. The beast nudged a firm paw softly against her. "Hey."
word count 400 / character count 2320 muse none
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