Vindico

Full Version: WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING
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<div align=center><div style="width: 439px; border: 1px solid #000000; background-image:url('http://24.media.tumblr.com/028ee14820a83f3149e2cd3558eede85/tumblr_my9zqefZxz1sdrik6o1_500.gif'); background-color:#f2f2f2; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center"><div style="padding-left:15px; padding-right:15px; padding-top:13px; padding-bottom:230px;"><div style="font-family:cambria; font-size:10px; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:1.5px; color:#737373; text-align: justify; padding: 13px; text-shadow: 1px 1px #cfcfcf;">she is drawn to this province--cloaked in perpetual silence and teeming with enigmatic wonder--as a moth is drawn to the allure of the <b><i>flame</i></b>. its shrouding haze the embellishment that coils and devours her willowy form as she fluidly weaves between titanic foliage and dense underbrush that fought to wholly consume her, her destination unidentified, but traipse purposeful. here, she pinpoints serenity in the foreboding quiet and dismal shadows, aware of the threat presented by her own solitude, yet simultaneously <i>heedless</i> of such prospective hazard. DEATH an acquaintance well-revered and well-received for a creature as inclined to believe in ‘<i>fate</i>’ as were the elysius wraith.<br><br>
fate had ushered her to this domain, after all, and fate would ingrain a level of instantanious attachment to its eerie atmosphere into her very bones.<br><br>
and the elysius embraces the concept of home <b>{</b> however <i>temporary</i> it may be <b>}</b> as lithe limbs heave her elongated form upon the uprooted trunk of a fallen tree, claiming its disintegrating face as her makeshift <s>throne</s> while she reclines languidly upon its edge, tucking downy wings tautly to her sides and wreathing her tail about lean haunches. celestial gaze diligently surveys her surroundings as she revels in her seclusion, poise rigid as if expectant of disturbance---prepared.<br><br><br><br>

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At some point, the trees of Tantus had melded with their gnarled, leafless brethren that dwelt in Mactibilis, a forest cloaked in shadows and impossibly-thick fog, but Ouroborus took no notice of the change. He held his head high as he walked, looking quite proud of himself, the rabbit that hung from his jaws swinging to and fro; truth be told, it was a poor excuse for a meal, scrawny and half-frozen, the meat that covered its brittle bones as stiff as the ground that he'd found it on, but it was his, now—all his—and he would enjoy it.

The pitiful creature had been abandoned when he'd first come across it, as though whomever had caught it had decided against eating it. Oh, but he hadn't been surprised; his father probably would have done the same, leaving it for the scavengers, as only they were fit to feast on such a thing. And the azure prince would have followed suit, had he felt that he could have caught something a thousand times better. But prey had been scarce, as of late, and he was in no real mood to be picky, even if it meant doing something that his father would have frowned upon. So he'd taken it. As if on cue, some wolf had then shown up, screeching about him being a thief.

It would have been easy for him ignore them—as far as he'd been able to tell, they'd barely had the energy to stand, let alone yell at a complete stranger—but Ouroborus had never appreciated name-calling, so he'd decided to punish them a little. Then he'd gone on his merry way, taking his prize along with him.

Aside from all of that, the day had been rather dull...but what else was new?

Suddenly, he stopped. There was a fallen tree blocking his path, and splayed on top of it was some creature that was as unfamiliar to him as a majority of the land's winged wolves were. With an inward sigh, Ouroborus set the rabbit down and stared at them, his lips drawing downward in a frown. <font style="color: #32313B; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"Would you mind moving out of the way? I don't know if you can tell, but your being here is quite the inconvenience to others,"</b></font> he called, sounding mildly annoyed. Gods, the wolves of this land were as inconsiderate as they were boring...


<font style="color: #32313B; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"Speech."</b></font> <font style="color: #34436B;"><em>Thoughts.</em></font></div></div>
<div align=center><div style="width: 439px; border: 1px solid #000000; background-image:url('http://24.media.tumblr.com/028ee14820a83f3149e2cd3558eede85/tumblr_my9zqefZxz1sdrik6o1_500.gif'); background-color:#f2f2f2; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center"><div style="padding-left:15px; padding-right:15px; padding-top:13px; padding-bottom:230px;"><div style="font-family:cambria; font-size:10px; line-height:14px; letter-spacing:1px; color:#737373; text-align: justify; padding: 13px; text-shadow: 1px 1px #cfcfcf;">the gloom of the forest does <u>little</u> to conceal the pastel disturbance who so turbulently strides toward her, his footfalls cacophonous in the eerie silence that had befallen the trees. inward protest to his uninvited presence manifests in the form of <i>constricted pupils</i> as her gaze engulfs his chiseled form and the meager carcass dangling between clenched jaws, stagnant upon him as he continuously maneuvers in her direction--seemingly oblivious to her looming entity. it is not until his saunter’s cessation that his attention fixates wholly upon her, vexation discernible as he discards the slain rabbit at his paws and glowers up at her with all of the ferocity of a scorned <i>kitten</i>. his abrupt and insipid tenor resonates within the astral wraith whose brow vaguely furrows in response, curiosity evident if but momentarily. she remains unaware as to <i><b>why</b></i> this choleric brute had not attempted to locate a different path, but she does not query his imbecility.<br><br>
<font style="color: #a85151; text-shadow: 0px 0px #915a5a">“ahh, flower prince: what are ‘the others’’ inconveniences to me?”</font> she retorts pointedly, obscuring her amusement in the neutrality of her countenance and tone. and her immaculate poise endures in spite of his imperoius request, tail slowly unfurling from taut thighs to splay furtherly across the face of her perch--an action so minuscule that it appears spontaneous. though she does not permit leeway for reply as she muses aloud: <font style="color: #a85151; text-shadow: 0px 0px #915a5a">“though, perhaps i would let them pass if they’d relay as to <i>WHAT</i> lurks within this forest.”</font> chin tips lower as her celestial eyes fix him with an expectant stare, her conviction unwavering. if the creature she’d encountered were a local, the elysius could only anticipate enlightenment as to the reasoning behind mactibilis’ <b><i>foreboding</i></b> vacancy and its sinister yet enthralling atmosphere.<br><br><br>

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<center>@Ouroborus</center>
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Ouroborus wrinkled his nose a little bit at her choice of a nickname, but said nothing. It was already clear to him that she could have cared less about the wolves whose lives she was making much more needlessly difficult, and if he were to start complaining about being called "flower prince", it would probably be no different than talking to that tree that she was laying on.

"Though, perhaps I would let them pass if they’d relay as to WHAT lurks within this forest," the woman then said, dipping her head so that she could stare at him, and he stared back, silent for a moment as his emerald orbs bore into her own. So crossing paths with her came with a price, and she'd presumably let him by if he provided her with a bit of information.

Unable to help himself, the azure prince smirked at her. <font style="color: #32313B; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"I take it that you aren't from around here, then. As for what lurks within the forest...if I'm to be honest, I can't say that I know the answer. "</b></font>

His eyes left hers, for a moment, shifting to the fog-cloaked masses of trees that loomed beyond her and her chosen perch.

<font style="color: #32313B; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"Beasts, perhaps. I've been told that such creatures have been roaming these lands, as of late...vile, savage things that hunger for wolf flesh. Other than that, however, I'm not sure. Why not go and investigate, to assuage this curiosity of yours...?"</b></font>

It was then that his gaze returned to her, and though the smirk hadn't left his face there was less amusement in it than before. Would she go, or would she be so worried for her own safety that she would much rather stay and pry her answers from strangers?

<font style="color: #32313B; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"Speech."</b></font> <font style="color: #34436B;"><em>Thoughts.</em></font></div></div>