December 25, 2016, 12:37 AM
Their every head picked up, every ears attuned and craned towards a singlulsr noise in their midst.
Suddenly, chaos!
The earth reverberated strongly with the abrupt din of panicked hooves, stamping the slushed dirt that lay along the steep banks of the channel. The atmosphere was dominated by mobocracy; the frenetic movements of the masses guided solely by the jostling and bumping of their collective musculature. The cries of the unnerved group of massive animals pierced the foggy melancholy of the channel, falling harshly upon Marlowe's ears.
Marlowe was astounded, unable to move at first. It was his nightmare, manifested and brought forth into his reality at the behest of the dark monster. It was a small thing, the shadowed blur that penetrated their refuge. The fanged stalker wove towards his child, eschewing the thunderous pendulums that swung to and from carrying the does around and forth, away and away from that place. The brute stood strong and observant as his harem fled back towards the studded treeline, suddenly awakening from their bedlam, reassimilating into a semblance of organization and weaving between the trunks in a well-choreographed dance [practiced for and by events such as these].
The herd moved one way but [to Marlowe's dismay] the wolf's juvenile victim moved another way entirely. Too late did it recognize its folly, scrambling on the frozen banks in order to course-correct and head into the undergrowth of the forest, following flattened path of its mothers, brothers and sisters. Of course the demon followed suit; following its macabre bloodlust. It was a creature of insatiable desire, a hellhound bent on obliterating any sense of the elk's organic pacifism. As they doubled back around Marlowe was moved to action; his chestnut-rippling legs thrust out and carrier him to a murderous scene.
Death happened quickly for the adolescent buck, but was not without its suffering. The shadowed creature hunched over the broken form of his child, ivories penetrating tender flesh and jaws crushing delicate passageways. Marlowe felt his insides churn at the sight and he came to the realization that hope for that particular life was lost. Even if he were to rush at the canine, it would bring about no positive outcome. He knew his harem waited for him, just beyond the trees - Marlowe could not ethically but himself in danger for a life already lost, in order to save them.
But the wolf's spiteful gaze infiltrated his mind, igniting an inferno of rage that consumer the sultan. He paced back and forth in a truly agitated manner, stamping his impressive hooves into the ground, bellowing and roaring in protest.
Suddenly, chaos!
The earth reverberated strongly with the abrupt din of panicked hooves, stamping the slushed dirt that lay along the steep banks of the channel. The atmosphere was dominated by mobocracy; the frenetic movements of the masses guided solely by the jostling and bumping of their collective musculature. The cries of the unnerved group of massive animals pierced the foggy melancholy of the channel, falling harshly upon Marlowe's ears.
Marlowe was astounded, unable to move at first. It was his nightmare, manifested and brought forth into his reality at the behest of the dark monster. It was a small thing, the shadowed blur that penetrated their refuge. The fanged stalker wove towards his child, eschewing the thunderous pendulums that swung to and from carrying the does around and forth, away and away from that place. The brute stood strong and observant as his harem fled back towards the studded treeline, suddenly awakening from their bedlam, reassimilating into a semblance of organization and weaving between the trunks in a well-choreographed dance [practiced for and by events such as these].
The herd moved one way but [to Marlowe's dismay] the wolf's juvenile victim moved another way entirely. Too late did it recognize its folly, scrambling on the frozen banks in order to course-correct and head into the undergrowth of the forest, following flattened path of its mothers, brothers and sisters. Of course the demon followed suit; following its macabre bloodlust. It was a creature of insatiable desire, a hellhound bent on obliterating any sense of the elk's organic pacifism. As they doubled back around Marlowe was moved to action; his chestnut-rippling legs thrust out and carrier him to a murderous scene.
Death happened quickly for the adolescent buck, but was not without its suffering. The shadowed creature hunched over the broken form of his child, ivories penetrating tender flesh and jaws crushing delicate passageways. Marlowe felt his insides churn at the sight and he came to the realization that hope for that particular life was lost. Even if he were to rush at the canine, it would bring about no positive outcome. He knew his harem waited for him, just beyond the trees - Marlowe could not ethically but himself in danger for a life already lost, in order to save them.
But the wolf's spiteful gaze infiltrated his mind, igniting an inferno of rage that consumer the sultan. He paced back and forth in a truly agitated manner, stamping his impressive hooves into the ground, bellowing and roaring in protest.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
above the clouds of pompeii - by Marlowe - December 14, 2016, 10:54 PM
RE: above the clouds of pompeii - by Dakarai - December 15, 2016, 04:28 PM
RE: above the clouds of pompeii - by Marlowe - December 19, 2016, 11:26 PM
RE: above the clouds of pompeii - by Dakarai - December 22, 2016, 12:50 PM
RE: above the clouds of pompeii - by Marlowe - December 25, 2016, 12:37 AM
RE: above the clouds of pompeii - by Dakarai - December 25, 2016, 08:06 AM
RE: above the clouds of pompeii - by Marlowe - December 25, 2016, 08:52 PM