A Black Rose Blooms

Bane · (This post was last modified: January 22, 2015, 07:49 PM by Bane.)

Sorry for the wait, and for writing so much! I haven't posted in a while and got carried away with this one..
EDIT (1/22/2015): Removing tables.

It wasn't until the young prince started to think that they'd never get out of that place that the sudden light change let him know that he was finally safe and away from the corvid battle. Even if it wasn't a real threat for two wolves Keith was starting to feel a bit annoyed at the constant cawing of the birds, and the scenery wasn't close to be as beautiful as that of his new home. The Ouroboros thrived in life in contrast to the foggy and gloomy feeling in the forest that the birds kept referring to as Blackfeather Woods.

The white youth breathed in the pure air when he stepped out of the darkness of Blackfeather, relieved to be out. He took a look back at the forest for a few seconds. Despite the grim feeling he got from the place, he felt also an absurd, but intense curiosity towards it. There were no places like this in the north, everything up there was snow white and open; And Blackfeather had eerie and sinister feeling that lit the prince's desire to unveil its secrets.

The prince got lost in his thoughts and forgot about the Black female he had followed out of the forest. Her voice blurred in the background but when he realized she was talking to him he shook his head and turned his gaze to her indigo eyes, which like the forest had an eldrich gleam that for a moment he thought was a little bit familiar. "I'm sorry, I.." he murmured shifting his eyes to the ground, "My name's Keith... Keithen White." his voice what somewhat shaky for his mind was somewhere else.

An image of a white pelted female bleeding in the sand appeared in his head, barks and howls flooded the yearling's ears even though the place was silent, then a pair of deep blue eyes in the dark --Please! Please just let me go!-- and then nothing. Keith's breath was heavy and his eyes were closed, he was trying to process this images, he knew they were memories, but they were not his, or at least not completely.