Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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the blood of reptile
IP: 184.238.30.58
Posted on June 12, 2013 at 04:33:05 AM by Saqr



She’s so small. I tower over her, even at this distance, my red-rimmed eyes coasting briefly over her tiny body. I can break her if she stays. I can find her if she runs. I can swallow her whole if I choose. For now, I fix my steady, hungry stare on her face, and chuckle quietly in response to her attempt to keep me away. “We’re just having a conversation,” I reply in mock defensiveness, “No one ever died of conversation.” The grin on my face is not friendly, but I let it pull my lips back anyway. I’m not going to hurt her yet.

I pull myself up to my full, impressive height and take a few steps toward her, trying to summon the will to destroy her where she stands. But I can’t. The urge simply is not there. An angel, alone in the dark, is feet away from me and I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it. “What is it that you want…?” I gnash my teeth in silent fury. What is it that I want? I want her dead. I want her to not exist. I want her alive. I want her for myself.

In an act of self-preservation, I ignore the question and latch onto the rest of her sentence. “Home is where the heart is, as they say…” As I trail off, I quickly close the distance between us, testing myself – do I want to kill her yet? I am six inches from her, the heat of our bodies colliding in the freezing winter air, her angel stink overpowering my good sense. I’m not grinning anymore, but my face is expressionless and hard. “I see no problem here, Angel Dust,” I murmur across the short expanse of frigid air, “if you will not seek to make a problem for me.”

I circle her slowly, dissecting her scent, absorbing her physique. Too white. Far too white. A new wave of repulsion washes over me, but it is not enough to incite the killing blow. I wonder smugly if she knows how close she is to death? I wonder if she knows how easily I could snap her fragile neck? Crush her delicate skull…? I draw my muzzle along the tips of the fur at her hip, drawing her in deeply. In her scent, however, I find further frustration. Her heat has come, but it is faint; she has been covered and may be pregnant.

I maintain my composure and complete my inspection, taking a seat dangerously close to the girl who may or may not survive our little encounter. This girl whom I desire both to end and to lock away, for myself only. I lock eyes on her face, grinning again. My thoughts have finally arranged themselves, and I can see, for me, a possible advantage. Perhaps I can have my cake and eat it, too. “You are of Diveen – but you are not blood of the angels, correct?”


S A Q R
three || ---- || 41” / 185lbs || ---- || angel dust
HTML/pic by Apollymi





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