KA-MAI, n.: fool of fate. the one that dances on the line between recklessness and bravery; the one that sinks his teeth into madness and grins past it.
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The land that the harbinger had wandered to seemed as desolate and inhospitable as the wretched lands that had spat him out. The nervous fields were devoid of colour, drained by the overcast sky that hung heavy and low. Aggressive winds cut their way across the barren landscape with sure and steady hands. The boy marched stiffly, his tired paws trudging through the snow-slush making rythmic time. The wiry hairs along his withers rippled and flowed as another gust of wind battered the heavens and earth.
The only change in scenery happened when the drizzle of rain shifted into wavering flakes of white. Although it was a muggy early spring day and the ground was wet and resistant, the flurry of snow became a relentless onslaught and the world was consumed in a holy and blinding sheet of alabaster. Thanatos grit his teeth and kept his head low as his marching was forced to slow, the only redemption in sight a vague but massive slab of rock on the horizon.
He broke through the trees as twilight had taken over. The forest provided a shield from the wild, restless tempest although the snow continued to fall in an endless cascade of white. The harbinger was quick to seek shelter, and quickly he took to searching for somewhere to wait out the storm. It came in the form of a conveniently sized cave whose mouth was facing the coast, protected from the danger of snowdrift. Baleful acid orbs surveyed the interior before he surmised he would be able to continue in solitude, and there he hunkered as the storm howled on.
The only change in scenery happened when the drizzle of rain shifted into wavering flakes of white. Although it was a muggy early spring day and the ground was wet and resistant, the flurry of snow became a relentless onslaught and the world was consumed in a holy and blinding sheet of alabaster. Thanatos grit his teeth and kept his head low as his marching was forced to slow, the only redemption in sight a vague but massive slab of rock on the horizon.
He broke through the trees as twilight had taken over. The forest provided a shield from the wild, restless tempest although the snow continued to fall in an endless cascade of white. The harbinger was quick to seek shelter, and quickly he took to searching for somewhere to wait out the storm. It came in the form of a conveniently sized cave whose mouth was facing the coast, protected from the danger of snowdrift. Baleful acid orbs surveyed the interior before he surmised he would be able to continue in solitude, and there he hunkered as the storm howled on.
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he burns me with his eyes of gold, to embers - by Thane - March 29, 2018, 04:31 PM
RE: he burns me with his eyes of gold, to embers - by Maia - April 01, 2018, 10:29 AM