IP: 124.171.50.66
Posted on December 26, 2013 at 09:32:45 PM by Tobias
| The Black Prince He moves with the silence of death itself, blackened paws soundless atop the moistened ground of fallen leaves and spring rains, crossing over the border of Taviora with little care. His mind does not perceive such things, his blackened conscious cannot be swayed by border or marker. He is outside their rules, he is above them, beyond them, he does not bow to any for the truest of the demons cannot be tamed nor forced. No pack will take him, each fears him and within the darkness his image roams within the nightmares of children. For he is a such, a plague upon this land, the destroyer of all that does not deserve to live, his hunger consuming him as the demons of his mind hiss and rage with their need for blood and heated flesh. He is most active within the spring, seeking the tender flesh of the young and weak, he has consumed many this season and yet still his hungers gnaws and snarls within the darkness of his ebony form. He moves between the trees of Taviora, silent and darkened, the chill of the morning air seeing his breath rise like smoke as he comes on dark wings that promise only destruction and pain. For this is his purpose, this is why he exists upon this wretched earth. To consume. The need is relentless, the hunger constant, a pain within him the sears and burns and demands, ravaging his mind, forcing within him and anger of fathomless proportions. He cannot perceive self, or time, or place, these things do not exist within him, his mind desires only a meal and this day he hunts upon the lands of Coza and his pack- though he cares not. Deadened reptilian eyes of emerald green stare with expressionless chill, the eyes of Demetri, his sire and his grandsire Bahamut before that, so perfect, so beautiful, encased within a face of angelic perfection, a form of blackened midnight and obsidian, his pelt so thick, so full, a dark majesty of the truest excellence to rival any of the Angel line. Yet perhaps this is the cruelty of fate, to craft a monster, a dark angel, a creature of fear and nightmare and encase him within a form so truly beautiful that so many are lured forward towards the sharpened jaws of death, so willing, yes, so willingly the foolish come, drawn to what they desire, lured in by a beauty that holds the fury of a wildfire. He is the truest predator, ruled by instinct alone and today he falls upon this pack, seeks the scent of youth that lingers, tasting of the air though his path does not deviate, his motion does not falter. He simply walks, eyes unblinking, moving forward, always forward, searching for the fouled scent of weakness or disease, seeking injury- the scent of those unworthy of life. They should thank him, yes, but they do not, they are weak, vile and foul, the wolves of pack protect the sick and the dying, they will not allow nature to follow it’s truest course, they will not abandon those they cannot save, they allow the unworthy to breed. He does not. He is the hand of the gods themselves. Let them think him cruel, let them think him nightmarish, yet he comes to do as nature does, he comes to rid the land of the weak and infirm. He comes to end the lives of those to foolish to stay away from him. You cannot fight what does not feel, that which gains strength with each injury and flare of pain. He exists to consume and so he will. He lingers within the trees, draped in the shadows of his kingdom, basking in the last shreds of the night before the touch of sun and day will send him back to the caves in which he lives, deep into the depths of the earth to await another night. This will be his last visit for the night, the darkness fading with each passing moment as he simply waits within the shadows, black pelt furthering his concealment and green eyes aglow within the gloom as he simply waits like death itself. The path before him is one well used, his darkened, cunning mind fixed upon this. Soon…..soon….one will come, one will walk upon this trail, one will seek to pass the angel of death within the dark and he will fall upon them as a predator does it’s prey. Perhaps those who patrol will notice his intrusion, perhaps they will not. It does not matter. He is here for blood this day and he will have his reward. All bow before The Black Prince, the heir of Jaidah and of Demetri and now it is Taviora's turn.  Demetri x Jaidah |Sire of Elijah, Alyx, Riven & Seir | Loner | Mated to Flare | Imprint of Salem |
Replies:
- i cannot believe my eyes - By HOLO. December 26, 2013 at 10:37:15 PM
What a Wicked Game to play - By Kiska December 27, 2013 at 02:57:19 AM
:: The Black Prince :: - By Tobias December 27, 2013 at 07:26:34 AM
Rising~●~Sun - By Coszcotl December 27, 2013 at 01:29:47 PM
i cannot believe my eyes - By HOLO. December 27, 2013 at 09:09:24 PM
{ Chasing The Sun } - By Solaris December 28, 2013 at 09:07:14 PM
What a wicked Thing to Do - By kiska January 21, 2014 at 10:05:33 PM
:: The Black Prince :: - By Tobias January 23, 2014 at 09:48:18 PM
Rising~●~Sun - By Coszcotl January 28, 2014 at 08:40:03 PM
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