Adrift the laced lingerie of Time

Zafina · (This post was last modified: December 31, 2018, 01:43 PM by Zafina.)

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

Whether it be his intention or his repulsion, he wound up amidst her presence. His scrambling across rocks was noted by the goddess as nails clicked against icy stone, dug into past wounds Time had inflicted upon it’s face. The mountain hid nothing from her, as even the breeze carried his labored breath directly into her aud’s range. Her snout hadn’t twitched even in the slightest as the helix of winter’s exhales brought his cologne across her, and hers across his. Notably she had precariously made it regular to bathe herself, but as she had seemed to always be on the run, she would potentially smell of earth, sweat, and heat. It mattered little to her as of now; her attention was to remain across the blanket of sky above her, just so that she might have a peek into her home.

Clouds however, forbade her persistence and shut her view off. The Celestials seemed to wish for her departure as they forced the temperature even lower than what she had only tediously worked to become accustomed to. Zafina was vexed he their neglect, by she was also struck by home sickness. This would make her vengeance so much more worthwhile.

There had been rumors that another God had been struck down to this plane, and the timeframe between such had been forsaken, cursed to walk these lands with her. The Celestials has not parted any other information as to who, nor what they were judged to be. However, the Gods could have been lazy, and chose the lupine as another catalyst for her fellow Cursed One. Who knew?

Making up her her mind, the Divine turned to address this wanderer, aware of what sex they were, what intervention they had with others, or lack of rather, and finally as she laid heartstoppingn garnets across them, what color they seemed to be. As he made his way up and over the heard of the peak’s entrance, Zafina had noticed this soul much more than any ordinary individual. For one, despite the mask of midnight the face of this planet had to endure, he shone like the Sultan of Immaculation. And as she hadn’t connected the two prior, his cologne was much more than a plain clean being, as with him petrichor was present and pungent. He seemed to be quite famliliar to her regardless of her never having seen nor knew of him.

”Hello,” she greeted him, transferring over to the regular tongue these savage wolves spoke with the ease of a native. Her word, her voice itself, was a vocal wisp of durable yet delicate existence, a ribbon which would either grace over you with enticing evocation, or bind you with relentless pressure. As she stood, rising smoothly to all fours, she was clearly at ease in his presence, purposefully ignorant of the untrusted of the Wolf species and their finicky mindset.

Zafina feared none - and this was applied to the man who had come to her solace.

But every sky will build my throne.