Post by ||Bloody Raven|| on Sept 27, 2005 23:24:11 GMT -5
The dark femmora galloped into the lands, daggers beating the earth. She halted and reared, daggers slicing the thick air as she emitted a piercing scream to announce her dark presence to all. She snorted and pawed the sod in anticipation. Auds laced against her skull, ivories bared. She tossed her dial, moving her tangled forelock. Cold, emotionless orbs scanned the land in search of a stag.
She was breath takingly beautiful which weighed out with the evil her bodice held within. She was seductive and many stags had fallen before her. She was in heat, and wondered herself why she hadn't been in the breeding grounds. She flicked her whipcord, hitting her flanks harshly. She released her scents, attracting any stags who lingered near. If it be a light, she would seduce him, get him right where she wanted, and before long he would be dead. But if it was dark, indeed she would too seduce him, but she would decide if he was dark enough. If his heart was cold enough, if he was evil enough. Not many proved to be as evil as her, she came straight from the shadows of hell. The stag would pay one day, the one who left her to be, but for now she needed a new one.
Bloody Raven was the name they screamed before they died, the name they screamed as the raven watched them die. The pathetic souls who crossed her path or those who were victems to her seducing, who screamed her cursing and begged for mercy.
She waited. The killer of lights. A dark bloodthirsty fae in heat. What more could a dark stag want? She pawed the sod raw, dagger making no sound. She tossed her dial again. She cared not what she was in the stag's herd; a lead or a playtoy. In fact, the second one sounded better. But if she was lead she would rule over all. She released more of her aroma before awaiting one dark enough for her.
She was breath takingly beautiful which weighed out with the evil her bodice held within. She was seductive and many stags had fallen before her. She was in heat, and wondered herself why she hadn't been in the breeding grounds. She flicked her whipcord, hitting her flanks harshly. She released her scents, attracting any stags who lingered near. If it be a light, she would seduce him, get him right where she wanted, and before long he would be dead. But if it was dark, indeed she would too seduce him, but she would decide if he was dark enough. If his heart was cold enough, if he was evil enough. Not many proved to be as evil as her, she came straight from the shadows of hell. The stag would pay one day, the one who left her to be, but for now she needed a new one.
Bloody Raven was the name they screamed before they died, the name they screamed as the raven watched them die. The pathetic souls who crossed her path or those who were victems to her seducing, who screamed her cursing and begged for mercy.
She waited. The killer of lights. A dark bloodthirsty fae in heat. What more could a dark stag want? She pawed the sod raw, dagger making no sound. She tossed her dial again. She cared not what she was in the stag's herd; a lead or a playtoy. In fact, the second one sounded better. But if she was lead she would rule over all. She released more of her aroma before awaiting one dark enough for her.
Bloody Raven