Lonesome Wanderer [Open]

[Noi]

A fire burns in a far off place.

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Fog plagued the lands, a sheet of ghosts enveloping the late January abyss. The emerald blades appeared dull at first glance beneath the cloaks of transparent alabaster that defied any quadruped a blear view into the distance. The ground was not the only scene wrapped in white, for the sky was dyed in a thick white cover, though midnight seeped through in holes and gave an eery feel to the dark atmosphere as the rays of the moon illuminated the fog spread across the area. The January breeze froze the fauna in their tracks, and once it had passed, many of them fled the area, desperately migrating from the bitter cold that surrounded them, trapping them like prey beneath forceful talons. The little amount of fauna that dared brave the dangerous and threatening squall, died soon after. The temperature had reached below zero, and even the toughest of animals were on the verge of freezing. That is, all except for Noi, a minx who was used to the cruel world's meaningless punishments, one who embraced tragedies with open arms.

The silhouette of a feminnine carcass appeared in the distance, shadowed by the little light provided by the great hovering moon that sat on a faraway mountain peek, topped with freshly fallen snow and carefully sheeted in thin layers of ice. Her appearance was settle, though an eery and satanic aura lingered about her. She was a beautiful and mysterious being. When one so daring aproached her, they would often feel a strange fear seep through their mind when in her strangly spooky presence. It was as if even her stare could send one into a mental state, perhaps even forcing them into paranoia. She was a truly strange minx, and a true dark to say the least. The strange thing was, if her presence didn't scare you, there was little that was threatening about her. The few who had feebly spoken with her had found her morals to be of a twisted philosophical way. She looked at things differently than most. It was as if she was neither light nor dark..not even neutral. What made her all the more intriguing was one could never tell wether they were a friend or foe to Noi until she stabbed them in the back unexpectedly.

Cloaks of soot were the only means of protection against the angered squall that seemed to defy her every step. The corpse maiden stepped forth with little effort, never the less. Dull oculi eyed her desired destination, even though she had been traveling aimlessly and it was a newly found resting spot. Her refuge was a large oak tree, still lifeless from a previous December storm. Winter had taken it's toll, apparent on the land. She sooted minx stood, switching her weight from time to time as she watched over the night fallen scene. Spring had come, but the cold chills still ran up the spines of unsuspecting victoms, reminding the creatures of the land that winter had been there only weeks before.
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And I am left drowning in my denial.

[Disiro]

I died two years ago...

Cracked daggers sounded dully on the thin sheets of rubble that covered the soil. Small fragments wedged their way into the raw crevices of his frogs, thorny residuals permanently digging deeper into his thin flesh as mud and other liquid substances dried, causing the thorns to cement themselves into his flesh. Numb were his daggers, as his soul was, numb his soul would forever be. I died two years ago. His mind repeated endlessly, venom mixed into the endless tune. Pit-less onyx orbs shot out in front of him, as nares filtered through the air, taking a mere microsecond to pick out what he had wanted. A mare. A vix. A female. A maiden. A minx. A wretch. A wrench. A victim. Whatever he wished to name them, they had listless callings. Worthless, most of them. A mere figure that wasted valuable time, and no purpose but to reproduce and look pretty. If they could handle even that. He had only met a select few that were more than that. That had even the slightest clue what was going on. That were smart enough to back off when an enemy stud was was threatening them. Instead of waste their lives fighting what was their own leader's battle. It was his job to protect, his job to give the seed, his job to look over the others. Whether he played by the rules none knew. yet.

Sleek muscles rotated with ease, his dull thin coat not allowing enemies to see what really lay beneath the surface. Auds never stayed at ease, always rotating around his skull, picking up momentary sounds that ceased as soon as they had started. His scorched coat allowed the moon to reflect his color, soft mist emerging from his caverns, like a fire's smoking drifting out into the air. And as soon as it emerged from his nostrils, it vanished. Pillars moved rhythmically, joints rotating to the will of his body. The scent flashed through his body again, it was stronger. The snow was thicker, the ice harder and a forest outlined his vision. He was close. But his forward movement neither increased nor decreased. It stayed controlled. Perfectly controlled.

Some studs and mares would mistake him as a light or neutral being, instead of the rogue monster his blood and mind had formed. Unlike his other enemies, he was in control of himself. He had no emotion, and less even though he ever had. I died two years ago. His mind continued to chant effortlessly. Dark stallions attempted to rape vixes, to control them with fright and force. But yet they couldn't control themselves. Their anger, their fury. It was all out of their grasp. They couldn't even control their testosterone, but yet they wanted to control others. A waste. A waste of time, a waste of energy, a waste of everything. Now some equines would state, that if he was in full control of himself, how was he evil, where was the passion? Would he back down to every fight? A slight smirk influenced the upper regions of his facade. Oh yes. He was quite a skilled fighter, but he fought not only was revenge or anger that was controlled, but with power and intelligence, instead of kicking out anywhere he could grasp. Only one hit, and the opponent was severed from the world. Like that.

Orbs refocused again, as light seeped into his pupils, without letting any return. A shadow caught his vision, by an oak tree. Direction shifted slightly, as he made an intercept course for the vixen, only halting when he was directly in front of her. His orbs scoured her bodice icily, taking only a few microseconds to pull up her information. Vixen, arab mix, onyx shading, no more than five revolutions. His mind returned without a waver of interest. Without waiting for the vix to introduce herself, his icy tones snapped across the air.

State your allegiance.

His voice hung emotionless in the air, his orbs penetration through hers as if he was reading right through her. He didn't care to give his cursing or path, unless she was worth it. Time would tell soon enough. Whether she wished to state her cursing, was her own will, but there was only one thing on his mind now. What path lays before you? If she was anything but a dark or rogue, he would leave her. He had no interest in slaves. They were pointless. Pleasure no longer infested him, influencing his every thoughts. I died two years ago. Lights and neutrals were useless. They complained, they wept, they pouted, they couldn't fight if there was a battle. They were traitors and would do more harm than good. And if they were impregnated, they would birth neutral or light whelpings, only making another ally for the enemy. There was no point. A waste in time. A waste in energy. A waste of a life.

I'm dead to you now...

[Noi]

This w o r l d is full of i g n o r a n t s too f o o l i s h to face the t r u t h in life. A d r e a m e r is the common f o o l who plays rediculous images in his/her m i n d over and o v e r and strives for the i m p o s s i b l e. A d re a m is a simple e s c a p e from r e a l i t y, but is often r e g r e t t e d when the d r e a m e r who is d r e a m i n g wakes up to this cruel h e l l..

Her own obsidian pieces, sharpened by the many rocks that had cracked them on her journey and made rough by the earth's core, took a single step forth, and her facade was raised and paperthins flared as she took in an unfamiliar scent. She couldn't quite place it. It was as if his presence lingered all around her, as if he was burried, his bones lying in varying places surrounding the oak tree. It was as if he had been here many times before. A native steed, no doubt. It was, without a doubt, male, whatever it was. The thought seeped into her brainpan, terrible thoughts mixing in with flashbacks from the past that filled her mind to the brim. It was not long before she decided to let the thoughts subside. She was not one to let the past affect the future. She was a sturdy wench, and nothing could quite faze her into taking a step back, but father taking a challenging step forward.

Her own goals were nothing similar to his. She had come here by force, not by longing. If it hadn't been for blood hungry predators, she would have been back in her homeland, socializing with her fellow equuds of her sire's dark collection. Ah, her sire. Now his legend was one to be told. He too thought of mares as simple reproductive tools, used only for their ability to spread his bloodline far and wide. A vessel, that was their only use. He didn't exactly mind what their appearance was, and often even forgot their scent. He had been merely a power hungry patriarch, but his plans had been successful and his infamy grew into legends, and his herd was quite possibly the largest army the lands had ever seen at the time. Upon his death, predators saw an opportunity to massacre the herd, and that's just what they did. The slaughter fest went on for nearly a year, and only a few were left surviving. Noi had been one of those lucky survivors and had travelled long and far, and this dump just happened to be the first stop that was actually decent enough to reside in for the time. She was not exactly looking for anyone to take her in, but she wouldn't push a stag to jump on her like most would. She was smarter than that. She knew well the capability of stags that were attracted to her, all dark and powerful, seeking the most intelligent and worthy 'vessels' as most called their mares. It disgusted her so, but she knew not to argue with those who could flay her alive. No, she wasn't a coward, but she nor was she stupid enough to fight with one of a larger and stronger build than she.

Most could feel the dastardly aura that soaked them when in her presence, even though most of the time she did nothing to send chills up their spine. It was almost like the cold, sinister and creeping feeling one got when death began to swollow their toes and wind up their legs, claiming their soul at the very end of a long and painful torture, though it wasn't painful. Her aura gave off a strange, eery feel. The closer you got, the colder she felt, as if she were a lifeless beauty braught to life by Lucifer, the devil himself. Many could mistake her for a slightly shadow-tainted neutral, but once you got close enough to look straight into her black oculi of nothingness, you could feel the devil's hand wrapping around you and pulling you down to hell.


As the large stag grew near to her, and she could feel the warmth from his carcass blown onto her own with the help of the gently blowing squall, she recognized his features immediately and mentally noted them. He had a scar on his left eyelid, trailing down past his eye, looking to be a battle scar. He was no older than four, by the looks of his enamels when he spoke. He shed no other blood tha that of the quarter horse, one of the true wild ones. He took in his scent, though most of it was carried away by the rushing breeze that brought her rags aloft. Her expression remained the same, blank and emotionless, as he enquired her allegiance. She spoke without even a nod to him in acknowledgement, as if she didn't even care that he stood before her, as if she felt no danger.

"My loyalty lies with the banished angel, and I abide by the rules of darkness. And your own, if you will, hessian?"

She had an echoing voice, dreary and slurred with venom dripping from her vibrating chords. The upper regions of her facade held no amusement or grief, no emotion, just a simple blank expression that she had held with her ever since the great tragedy of her homeland that had turned her into a wise, and strong minx.

This world is a living hell.

[Disiro]

I died two years ago...

Auds rested momentarily as the silence seemed to stretch between them. Never did his pit-less orbs leave the vix's, his stare not unlike a glare. His pillars did not shift from side to side in unease, he stood as solid as a statue, his bulk and his muscles seeming to suddenly become apparent, although not tense. His massive statue stood solidly on the grounds beneath him, the moon reflecting an even larger version of him onto the ground mingled with the other shadows of the forest and the slender vixen's. Her orbs seemed to be attempting to penetrate his bod as well, as he felt her glare momentarily sweep over his bod for a fraction of a second. Her actions toward him were not unlike his toward her, but her thoughts remained her own as his remained his. Contained like his emotions. Always in a solid check.

Time rushed through his mind, two years ago precisely, the situation playing over his mind over and over as it often did. Haunting him. Eating away inside of him. It was the only thing that thrived inside him. Nothing else. No emotions, no love, no caring. Just memories. I died two years ago...

A slender vixen played across his mind, her form not unlike his own. Her coat was stained a similar gray as his remained, a bit lighter than his own. Her orbs reflected an amber mix, her daggers a darker shade. Her whipcord and mane were an onyx color as his was, but no scars were on either equine. Not yet. Her dark nature enticed him, her scent nestled deep within his caverns as it always did. Her bodice was never too far from his own, their dark nature controlling over his thriving herd. Her cursing was Era. He was a slave master, two years before, and abused every vix, whether dark or light, except for Era. He thrived upon pleasure, as she as well found it pleasurable to watch, screaming harassing curses at the mares he would abuse. She would usually throw in a few kicks, with a malevolent laugh that was cold enough to freeze all the other animal's around her. They were the terrible duo, his and her places in the herd never went challenged. Until that fateful day.

I died two years ago..

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Sharp yet emotionless tones reached his auds, his orbs refocusing on the same spot he had never left. The vix's. No surprise nor any other emotion escaped from his bod to give the impression that just for a millisecond he had not been paying attention. Vocals soared into his auds, as his cerebrum analyzed her words. A dark spirit. Good. You may yet have your use. But just because one said they were dark, never meant anything. Any equine could spit out any lies that they saw fit. But that did not mean that there would not be consequences to ones actions if words did not comply with reality. After a mere second, his tones echoed into the empty space between the two, vocals emitting as before.[/color]

Shadows revolve around my presence. My cursing is Disiro, and if you have any logical thoughts at all, that is what you shall refer me to. Unless you wish me to call you vix or wretch, state what you were branded by your sire.

His vocals echoed out emotionless as before. No threats seemed to emerge from his brief sounding, but if he were to make threats they wouldn't turn empty. Threats are promises that most aren't willing to keep. Except the privileged few that turned those threats into actions or consequences. Which was what Disiro did. He wasn't the fool he was called merely two years ago. He wasn't a wimpering idiot who would pick on those weaker than him and then not stand up to face any larger challenges. That Disiro was gone. [/size]

I'm dead to you now...

[Noi]

This w o r l d is full of i g n o r a n t s too f o o l i s h to face the t r u t h in life. A d r e a m e r is the common f o o l who plays rediculous images in his/her m i n d over and o v e r and strives for the i m p o s s i b l e. A d re a m is a simple e s c a p e from r e a l i t y, but is often r e g r e t t e d when the d r e a m e r who is d r e a m i n g wakes up to this cruel h e l l..

As the patriarch stood, she could have sworn his glare wading over her physique, as if searching for any sign or signal of emotion, or any key to her true inner self. This intrigued her, as she found nothing but herself in him as well, emotionless and scorned by the past that left them nothing but scars to remind them what fools they once were. This fact about him intrigued her, though she showed little of that and gave nothing of a hint of it in her blank expression. Her dark corpse tood motionless, but she was nothing like a statue. Oh no, she did not hold her breath as one passed by to look her over, nor would she weather down easily. Both traits that every statue had, but were foreign and meant nothing to the minx. She stood, breath coming and going easily and showing no sign of threat nor welcome to the stag, but a simple rthymn in her breath as if he was not even standing before her. Afterall, she was a smart one, and in her book, a rugged appearance did not pose any kind of threat, what was inside its owner did.

At the stag's scent, she was reminded of the only patriarch that she had felt was worthy to speak with her, or rather one so sinister that she hadn't a choice. Her sire. With those memories of the great stud came horrible images of bloodshed and massacre, the great blood bath that flooded their herdland with the foul scent of torn flesh and blood. Her mind churned, and vivid images of the first attack came to her...

Twas a winter day, and the predators surrounded the area, for the great sire had left his free corpse and decended into the earth's core, letting Lucifer's flames engulf him and swollow his molevolent soul. The many foals of the season had only a day of life before they would be devoured that fateful night. A mountain lioness had been the first to strike, taking three newborn foals and dragging them one by one to her den to store for the winter. Though the mares faught with all their might, there soon before too many predators that they all died, some drowning in the blood of their loved ones when knocked to the floors of the great earth. It was a terrible sight to see...

At his words, her thorns swivelled forth to listen intently to the stag's words. She was amused by his sense of authority, but kept a smirk well under her expression, hidden from him as her facade remained blank of any emotion. Her mug was slit once more, chords chiming the eery song that had given her a reputation for charming many, and sending chills up their spine at the same time,

"My sire branded me 'foal', for he was one of an uncontrollable bloodline and little time to give useless curses that he himself could not remember, but if it is a calling you require, refer to me as Noi. Nothing more, nothing less, and I shall call you by your tag as well,"

Said the soot cloaked minx, her trademark expression holding nothing for him to read, as usual. She wasn't one to keep an open book and read it aloud to others. She thought it as a way of lowering your gaurd, and refused to do this in the presence of a stranger, or loved one even for that matter. She felt that every being, friend or foe, had the ability to grow into something threatening with any false word or movement. Call her paranoid, but that wasn't it. She was just smart enough to stay unfazed in the presence of anything potentially lethal.

This world is a living hell.

[Disiro]

I died two years ago...

The vixen stood, just as he was. Silent, except for a few words. Then it was his turn. Then hers. It was if it was a contest, a competition. Who could be emotionless for the longest. Which equine had been tarnished more. Which had been thrown so far into the depths of pain that they no longer were coated with anything else. Moon's beams seem to shift. The night was falling, and day would emerge in only a few hours. Normally a low hiss would have refracted through his jaws, but it was silenced as his orbs left hers momentarily, perifial vision still caught on her form. If she moved toward him in an aggressive move. He would know. And he would have her carcass by his pillars, straining for air if she did. Momentarily satisfaction seemed to glare through his orbs, but as they met the vix's orbs, it dissipated into the thin air. His vocals allowed a reply to slide from them.

You don't have much a choice.

He said sharply, but not unkindly. He was referring to her choice whether to call him by his tag. She would unless she wished to call him, master, sire, lord.. whatever. It did not matter as much, just as long as it wasn't disrespectful. Disloyal mares were something to deal with. If he wanted a fight with them to prove their true dark shade, then he would give it, without consequence. Hers would come... soon. Memories slowly engulfed him again, and he didn't fight them this time. Allowing the story to play on.

The light and neutral lands had sided together, (no rogue lands in that time only dark) and his dark herd was caught off guard quickly. He retreated deeper into his own lands, his own lack of judgment and confidence quickly slipping from him. He gathered his herd, however it consisted of only two other true darks, and all the rest were slaves or foals. Era and the other two mares started attacking, as he started for the light king. The king himself was hard to defeat and his guards made it impossible to get to him. Cursing himself for their numbers, he struck again, finally getting to the king himself. Light blood ran through his facade, and the fate was almost determined until an all too familiar scream echoed through the land..

His mind collapsed, his guard suddenly shattered, his orbs meeting Noi's for just a brief second, before his guard shot back up. You fool, your too weak still. His mind taunted, jeering as his sire had beaten into him. I died two years ago. His mind echoed hollowly.

A different stare echoed through his vision, emotionless orbs no longer being thrown toward her. Now they were confident, and dominating. He had came here after her, and now it was his turn to make the move. His turn. He had came here for her. Only her. Mind focused slightly before his vocals rang out again.

Now Noi, you do have one choice. Stay in this dark area where light will soon reflect.. Or come where the sun will never tarnish your onyx coat again.

He spoke icily. His pillars creaked in forward movement again. His daggers crunching hollowly in the soft snow beneath him. His scorched coat alternated in the moon's beams. He walked slowly, deliberately around her, watching her every reaction to his movements. He halted briefly behind her rump, watching closely for her reaction. A slow smirk echoed through his facade. His shoulder brushed up against her rump. He was too close for her to get any good kick in. And she wouldn't get far after that. (and if she makes no movements ) He continued walking up to her skull once again, his orbs penetrating hers, a smirk still left on his facade.

I'm dead to you now...

[Noi]

This w o r l d is full of i g n o r a n t s too f o o l i s h to face the t r u t h in life. A d r e a m e r is the common f o o l who plays rediculous images in his/her m i n d over and o v e r and strives for the i m p o s s i b l e. A d re a m is a simple e s c a p e from r e a l i t y, but is often r e g r e t t e d when the d r e a m e r who is d r e a m i n g wakes up to this cruel h e l l..

The soot stained minx stood silent, and though little was shown on her exterior or occuli, interest lingered in her mind as she began to point out similarities of her sire and the more than worthy gladiator before her. They were both as dark and sinister as the devil would allow(only because he knew if they were any more than he would be overthrown). His cloak, as well, had been of a charcoal hue, nearly black but his color not enough to be proclaimed as a black. He had a molevolent personality, curel to the world that surrounded him except for a truly dark few. Her dam had not been one of those few, and never had the wit to submit to him before he had forced her and planted his seed. She had been a mere vessel, but Noi had direct genes from one of the most infamous sires in the land. She had reason to stand above many studs, but Disiro was one of the minority, one of few she would respect.

Her thorns pricked once more as she heard his reply. This was the final clue, and was all she needed to know that he was the one she would follow. He was exactly like her sire, she hadn't a choice to call him by his tag or not, he would force her to and keep that promise if she didn't. As strange as it sounded, she saw this as a sign of pure power and strength. She nodded, and the tiniest hint of a smirk began to curve on her upper facade.

"Verywell, Disiro."

Came the minx's icy speech, her reply simple though dripping with the venom that lingered in all of them, but was only brought out in the true shadow followers. His test had already been given in silence, and he had passed with flying colors. The question was, would he take her? Or was this fellow just a foolish, brooding loner? The silence came once more and caused her mind to churn...

A white wolf snuck towards the dying corpse that lay on the ground, unable to get up. The great stag should have been long dead, but he refused to leave without knowing that one of his favored few would leave unharmed. A weakened call soon enveloped the blood stenched land with echoes of the infamous sire. One of his foals, a young blackened arabian ess, snuck out from behind the under growth, leaving her safe hideaway to speak with her maker. He told her many things, but the most memorable..'..leave this place, young ess, go far and wide if you wish, but do not stay here and die if the devil may have mercy on your twisted soul. Grow your infamy, and one day become queen of what will someday be something great, and only submit to such a sinister being that even your sire could do little but envy..'

Her mind dismissed these thoughts all of the sudden before they had a chance to go into the images of her father's tragic death. His words had not went unheard, and she had followed his orders. Now was the time to finish his will and redeem herself by following the stag before her. I have found him, father, came her thoughts.

The minx suddenly saw a flash of confidence echo through his once broken mirrors. She let the lingering smirk grow as he placed down his own will, simply. She gave him a look as if she had expected the question long before it had been asked, and as if he already well knew her answer. She then spoke.

As he began to circle her, she did not look at him. She kept still, though not with the features of a statue who's properties would weather with ease. She stood stronger than the iron horse, who's walls would rust in given time. She stood stronger than anything, invinsible to his glare and intimidation as he circled to her rump. She didn't move, but nor did she grow tense. Her breathing was easy and once more she showed him no fear, as there was no threat as he brushed a shoulder against her rump. He circled back to her front and she lowed her skull only slightly and gave him a smirk. Then, with two short and simple words, she handed him her loyalty.

"I submit."

This world is a living hell.

[Disiro]

I died two years ago...

The vix's words crept openly into his awaiting auds, his guard lowering ever so slightly. This vixen was now his. And as his, he would protect her and her sins as his own. Her guard never seemed to waver as he had circled around her. He could have easily raped the vix for being so foolish to not watch her back as a threat could have taken away everything dear to her. Or was it a flash of trust. She was smart, very intelligent. Because if she had turned, he would have saw that as a line of anxiousness, of fear of what could happen. But she was foolish enough not to. The same foolishness that had allowed him to lower his guard in front of her. The same foolishness that he had enveloped in once he passed her rump. She could have lashed out, and he would have been at a bad angle. Perhaps our foolishness is the smartest of them all. His mind hollowly echoed. His smirk grew slightly. An intelligent vix, for an intelligent steed. It almost sent shivers through his spine thinking how powerful the two could become. But he restrained such action from emitting through his bod. He would not become an open book, not yet.

His orbs rotated around the vix's slender, sleek bodice again, memorizing her every detail. Her onyx coat, her ebon whipcord and mane that hung at ease. Her pit-less orbs that reflected his own character so well. She was only a few inches shorter than him, a rather tall young female. Her daggers were onyx and cracked as his own, hidden underneath the thick bundle of snow that lay underneath them. The moon seemed to rotate again, showing their time in the shadows would soon diminish. Lighter vixens and brutes would soon emerge. Looking for mates. Looking for a good time. His jaw tightened under his thin scorched skin. He half wished to stay here and watch, only emerging to challenge a light stud that may remind him of the one he had killed.

Her scream rang into his auds like a needle through his hide. His full attention turned toward the stretch of land to his left. The light stud ahead of him took advantage and struck him in the barrel. Disiro rose again, anger burning through his soul. The forest loomed behind the light stud, a thick branch emerged ten feet above the light brute. One hit. One time. One chance. Make a wish.. Suddenly, Disiro charged, aiming as if he were going for the light's neck. In defense, the light reared quickly, his poll hitting the marker. A sound snap emerged as his spine entered his cerebrum. The light was dead.

His attention refocused on the scream, pillars giving all they could allow. His onyx orbs caught sight of what he had feared, his charcoaled vix lay on the ground, a neutral stud circling her, his dark side revealed as he plotted on how to kill the vix. Disiro charged, ramming full force into the brute, enough to land the brute unconscious for a few minutes. Her breathing was shallow, her orbs fluttering open as she saw his form. Her whisper still rang in his auds.. Help me. Her orbs fluttered shut as her breathing stopped. She was dead.

I died two years ago...

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His pillars stirred briefly beneath him as he pivoted slightly, his bod aligned with her left side. A sharp nip was placed on her shoulder, his smirk appearing mischievously on his facade. He knew she would become his queen. But he wouldn't ask her quite yet. He did not want to be an idiot. He didn't want to seem that he would take the first vix in his side as his queen. His herd would grow slightly, then he would ask her. He needed more dark vixens first. But he knew she would be his queen. His vocals rang out to her auds.[/color]

Your mind can rest at ease. I shall not let you fall.

He said slightly metaphorically. He wouldn't let her fall into the grasp of any other brutes. He wouldn't let any other brutes touch her. Anger coursed underneath his hide as he thought of what he would do. But yet he keep himself composed. His pillars began to move forward, his daggers lifting through the snow. He was prepared to show her his fortress. [/size]

I'm dead to you now...

ooc: if you want you can start a thread in my territory (Black Asylum) and start where we left off, so we can get out of the meeting grounds.