Silver Cove
Here damp, grassy hills surround a small pool of water; the lush verdure paves the ground until a short cliff gives way to a ring of small, smooth stones that have been pounded by waves until they became the glassy obsidian pebbles they now are. Beyond the stones, a narrow stretch of sand glides into the water- it is here, in the rippling surf, that the land earns its name. In the dark of night, the moon flashes over the shivering grass and rests in the cove: by some chance or fate, the cove is shaped so that the gossamer rays of moonlight are retained, somehow, in the sea and until dawn breaks the cove is alive with silver luminescence.
I'm your monster
IP: 65.102.161.121
Posted on April 27, 2012 at 11:17:42 PM by Broddur
A cry trickles from the forest, a woman’s cry, one that would send any normal horse running to save the creature and let her know she was fine that he was right there. Broddur isn’t a normal creature though, and instead of going to her his pace ceases and he concentrates on her scent picturing her in his mind, letting the monster lunge for her, to pull her soul closer to his. That was how he let them know where he was for the most part, the way she would have to learn to recognize his presence. That dark force that hung as a cloud “Come to me baby.” He whispers to himself, malicious grin tugging his lips, she calls again yet. Yet this he does not reply, only through the tug would he call her, she would have to learn and the sooner the better.
Opening his eyes she is before him, no longer the innocent little waif, his eyes sparkle in anticipation this was what the creature had recognized even before he could. She travels closer to himself, and his nares flare soaking in every inch of her. Now could he bend her? or would he break her just as he had Cassiah. Whispering in her ear he lets no emotion pass his face, “Baby, I cannot promise not to scar you. I can promise you will never forget this time though.” It was inevitable, scarring was simply a part of the violence, and nothing could change that. Lips press against her hide reaching to bruise her, just as little pinpricks of pleasure race through his body sending a growl from his maw into her fur, “You sure? There is no turning back.” The bloody stallion had found his replacement, oh how she would seethe to know that he no longer needed her monster, no longer needed her violence, if baby excepted he could live with the monster, his life could return to normal, he could be completely charming, without the creature lurching so close to the surface any more.
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