[ distorted eyes ]

[Miro]

[ And it is only in my dreams that I permit myself to be insane ]

Silence. It echoed from the lands, stirring the leaves from the trees. It was split with the ferocity of a tiger, so suddenly it was left crippled. Daggers pierced the ground, creating thick beats through the otherwise silent lands. Birds shot from trees, not from the noise but the sheer presence they felt coming upon them. A fae, pelt ashen yet so fearsomely dark, shot through the lands. Her flints were cracked and broken like a shattered tree, the cracks caked with blood and dirt, yet they were as strong as those of a well kept shire. Her orbs leaked and cuts lined them, yet they were as alert and terrifying as those of a hawk. Her bodice weakened and smothered with layers of blood and sweat, yet as seductive and sleek as that of a wolf. She halted suddenly, zeniths pirouetting like dancers 'pon her crown, and watched. She watched anything. Flowers wilted from her mere prescience, death with every step she took.

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[ooc- Ah, recycling... the possibiliities are endless]

[Devil May Cry//Deja Entendu]

The sweet seduction of the scent of a demoness... Every instinct in the brute's body told him to find her. Yet, his steps were slow, calm, and hesitant. His large daggers severed any foliage that so unfortunately fell under them. His frame was large, and well muscled from battle... This size was convenient for fights, but impaired him also. His stature slowed him down, but then again... In this world, every good thing comes with a negative also. That was just the way this hell worked. His pistons continued dragging him across hell's ceiling, taking his time to locate the wench. His skull was delicately tucked, upon his large serpentine. Though his canvas was marked with scars through these many years, it still managed to maintain health. His voids were dark, and lifeless. The emotionless look did not leave them as the shadowed figure of the vixen was taken in by them... His senses were allowed to dull once again, now that he knew where she was. His thorns relaxed, now lying back against his skull. His steps grew slower as he approached the vixen. He continued dragging himself forward until he thought himself to be close enough for a conversation to be held.
Unlike so many foolish brutes, he did not stand tall, nor did he attempt to make himself look any more muscular than he was. He merely stood. He had no reason to care... No reason to lie. The bronc brought his kissers to one of the vixen's flanks. His fangs parted before striking her pelt. He pulled his skull back to it's rightful position, interested to see what the fatale's reaction would be.
...What have we here...? A pathetic light...?
Though his voids and soul told him differently... That she was a dark. He had a strange little way of communication. He rarely ever meant what he said, but somehow it always fit in. His voids remained lifeless... Almost glazed with depression, and hatred.

[Miro]

[ when i go on ]

She span at the strike, zeniths fixing 'pon the stag. She had known of his impending arrival for long, waiting for him to make himself known. Yet this...? Not a usual introduction, true. The comment poisened her lobes, pulling them back in disgust. How he dared! Her temper was short, too short, comments like this had lost stags their lives before. Yet she knew this one had some form of authority, or he would not dare take the swipe he had at any.

[Your nerve is strong, I give you that. You have an alternate was of introducing yourself... so why is it that you can with no fear of death?]

She glared at him with a curiosity that reached a point beyond morbid.

[/center]

[fang]

Something suddenly snapped up Tornoc's head. A scent of a mare in heat welled up in his nostrils. This being his first year to breed he quickly became excited. Quickly and quietly he stalked toward the source. The he stopped. She was there, but another stallion already stood infront of her. From the looks of it the stallion was strong but not quite so fast as he himself was. Tornoc was not as strong but he was quick, that was how he had been able to earn the scars he bore and live. Both horses were dark the mare perfect for him.
His eyes burned a firey red as he felt an obsession. She was beautiful beyond belief. He could not win her by fighting though. The stallion was too strong...but maybe he could beat him by speed. Unsure he waited. Waited for anything. It all depended on what the stallion would do. Calmly he watched ready for anything.