Post by waltzingshadows on Sept 10, 2006 18:40:08 GMT -6
((Yesh! A nice, long post. I feel much better now; my muse has come back to me. 
))
Grey storm clouds loomed high into the sky, foreboding rumbles coming forth from them like the grumblings of massive creatures. The wind whipped across the grassy terra with the scream of a banshee. A wolf dashed across the plain, as though in an attempt to outrun the encroaching storm. A feeble attempt, albeit.
The male's slender legs stretched out in his longest stride, his ebony ears tucked against his bluish skull. His orbs were hazed, the black pupils dilated to tiny black specks midst a sea of haunted amarillo.
The wolf's wild race was halted abruptly. He did not slow down his pace, merely stopping the movement of his ivory legs. Lurching forward sharply, he nevertheless kept his balance, swirling simultaneously to face the tempest behind him.
:Kor...you're going to break our legs doing that!: The malicious snarl erupted throughout his cranium. Kor ignored his alter, his heartbeat slowly calming down. The mascu, his eyes now wide with a clash of emotions, noted the bright flashes of lightning that were striking the terra less than a mile away. He observed, also, the sheet of rain that the clouds were letting loose.
"Sing to me, my love..." Kor shivered violently as the voice from his past emerged in a painful memory. Torn chuckled evilly as Kor unsuccessfully tried to suppress the bygone dialog.
"Sing?...of what?" he had replied. He remembered how her soft, dark fur rubbed against his, how her fangs nipped the side of his face, the blood oozing from the gashes.
The storm grew steadily closer; every thunderous boom reverberated throughout Kintyorn's bodice. "You are my bard...sing to me of the rain..."
Kintyorn's sable muzzle cracked open, as if his mistress was beside him now, commanding his song. He tested a few pitches, as he had that night, when the rain was nowhere to be found in the starlit sky. He picked a tone, and an odd song emerged from his vocals.
Twas a melody that was born in the belly of a tempest, of the rhythmic pounding of rain drops, of the random clashes of thunder, of the screech of the wind as it tore across the wolf's ragged pelt. It was wordless, and didn't even resemble a regular song; for the notes mirrored exactly the song of a storm. Kintyorn's strange melody crescendoed as the first droplet of rain his skull, and he stood, completely still except for the closing of his lids. Maw reached skyward, the rain pelting every inch of his lean frame with the force of a million little pebbles.
Still, the wolf sang, tears running freely from his tightly shut orbs, his voice competing with that of the storm's. Torn was silent, reflecting the music to himself, for once not complaining over Kor's actions.
The storm has harsh, but small in size, and it was soon receding from above the mascu. His song continued, fading just a little. He was still singing loudly when he ended his song with a low rumble, somehow in time the actual thunder of the true storm. Kintyorn shut mis maw and sunk onto his haunches. He finally took the time to look about; he was at the edge of a huge forest, the leaves of the trees dripping with fresh rain. In the distance, he caught sight of a large pillar, yet felt no desire to go examine it.
:You idiot! You sing too loud. Let's hope the creatures in the vicinity aren't hostile; they surely know we are here now. Torn grunted angrily. :Why, for the love of magnolias, can't you be quieter?:
[/color]
))Grey storm clouds loomed high into the sky, foreboding rumbles coming forth from them like the grumblings of massive creatures. The wind whipped across the grassy terra with the scream of a banshee. A wolf dashed across the plain, as though in an attempt to outrun the encroaching storm. A feeble attempt, albeit.
The male's slender legs stretched out in his longest stride, his ebony ears tucked against his bluish skull. His orbs were hazed, the black pupils dilated to tiny black specks midst a sea of haunted amarillo.
The wolf's wild race was halted abruptly. He did not slow down his pace, merely stopping the movement of his ivory legs. Lurching forward sharply, he nevertheless kept his balance, swirling simultaneously to face the tempest behind him.
:Kor...you're going to break our legs doing that!: The malicious snarl erupted throughout his cranium. Kor ignored his alter, his heartbeat slowly calming down. The mascu, his eyes now wide with a clash of emotions, noted the bright flashes of lightning that were striking the terra less than a mile away. He observed, also, the sheet of rain that the clouds were letting loose.
"Sing to me, my love..." Kor shivered violently as the voice from his past emerged in a painful memory. Torn chuckled evilly as Kor unsuccessfully tried to suppress the bygone dialog.
"Sing?...of what?" he had replied. He remembered how her soft, dark fur rubbed against his, how her fangs nipped the side of his face, the blood oozing from the gashes.
The storm grew steadily closer; every thunderous boom reverberated throughout Kintyorn's bodice. "You are my bard...sing to me of the rain..."
Kintyorn's sable muzzle cracked open, as if his mistress was beside him now, commanding his song. He tested a few pitches, as he had that night, when the rain was nowhere to be found in the starlit sky. He picked a tone, and an odd song emerged from his vocals.
Twas a melody that was born in the belly of a tempest, of the rhythmic pounding of rain drops, of the random clashes of thunder, of the screech of the wind as it tore across the wolf's ragged pelt. It was wordless, and didn't even resemble a regular song; for the notes mirrored exactly the song of a storm. Kintyorn's strange melody crescendoed as the first droplet of rain his skull, and he stood, completely still except for the closing of his lids. Maw reached skyward, the rain pelting every inch of his lean frame with the force of a million little pebbles.
Still, the wolf sang, tears running freely from his tightly shut orbs, his voice competing with that of the storm's. Torn was silent, reflecting the music to himself, for once not complaining over Kor's actions.
The storm has harsh, but small in size, and it was soon receding from above the mascu. His song continued, fading just a little. He was still singing loudly when he ended his song with a low rumble, somehow in time the actual thunder of the true storm. Kintyorn shut mis maw and sunk onto his haunches. He finally took the time to look about; he was at the edge of a huge forest, the leaves of the trees dripping with fresh rain. In the distance, he caught sight of a large pillar, yet felt no desire to go examine it.
:You idiot! You sing too loud. Let's hope the creatures in the vicinity aren't hostile; they surely know we are here now. Torn grunted angrily. :Why, for the love of magnolias, can't you be quieter?:
