He stalks the familiar shadows boldy, brashly through perhaps one of the very last places that the likes of him would be welcome. Did he care? Of course not. He was The Snow King, he abided by only the laws he set and no others. He respected none save for those that were gathering in the realm of eternal snow and ice. The shadows were growing stronger as the promised time drew ever nearer, and it was the cause of that twisted and malicious grin that crept its way upon those colorless labrums of his as he walked with slow intent. White feathered wings rested nearly across the strong length of his back, hardly a gentle breeze to be found that would brush against that skin as cold as the arctic winds that howled across the plains that were his kingdom. Despite the increasing warmth that came with every passing day that the wretched months of summer came closer to the present, every step he took left behind a print of frost in the tall and lush grasses. As he moved with predatory satisfaction, chiseled and powerfully sculpted muscle rippling beneath his numb and scarred skin, the trees and underbrush near him were enveloped in a thin sheet of frost, glittering in the sunlight as gold shards broke through he canopy wherever they could. It was uncanny how easy he moved through the confines of the dale, but then again this was but one of a few visits that the wicked white beast of winter had paid to the unfortunate and ever absent warlord. It was hard not to enjoy the imagery that flash across those malicious hazel depths as he remembers taking the floral woman beneath him in an easy display of sheer power and lust. He could remember the delcliois pleasure that coursed through his frame when he released his seed within the fertile womb of Rhaego's favored mare, tainting her forever. He wonders only now what might have become of the spawn she surely brought forth from her loins as a... lovely little reminder of their night together. The thought was only fleeting, however.

In truth, it really was more of a coincidence that he would find himself hunting the forests of the dale again. His true ambitions were set on the mountains that rose in the far west and the realm that rested there. Paraíeo. That was he intended tonal goal, but he had decided to take a "scenic" route to yet another place where he knew his head was wanted for executionary reasons, but what he had planned for that pathetic place filled to the brims with those that danced in the sun and encouraged peace and tranquility when the Snow King would much rather their light be snuffed out like a candle in his cold and cruel winds that would soon blow across that petty little paradise was something that his followers hungered for. Soon, the birds would sing no more and the sacred soils of the ancient kingdom wold be painted red with the blood of those within. And oh, what a glorious moment it would be when he struck down that daughter of his who dared to try and protect them from winter's wrath, when he ribbed her of the light in her life by slaughtering those little brats of hers, the only things she has left to remember her precious knight by. Another night that had left him with an cruel grin as he left the dying stallion in the clearing, beaten and bloody as the his breath grew shallower by the moment. The only remorse Maverick carried with him from that night was that he hadn't had the opportunity to be the very last thing Zameir saw, his rasped baritones the last thing the knight would ever hear as he promised to destroy everything that the golden stallion had loved and ultimately died in vain for.

Cold hazel eyes are drawn to a sudden movement seen through the trees new and he pauses, twin peaks pressed forward amidst his colorless whipcords. He was half expecting to see a flash of copper but instead, he was just barely able to see a figure of silver dressed in black. Silently, he moves through the trees, dangerous interest burning wickedly in his gaze when at last he sees her fully and that lustful smirk finds his facades. A short distance away from their treeline stood perhaps one of the prettiest femme his cruel eyes had seen in some time, and thrhrreeline absolute best part was that not only were those luscious and inviting hips facing his direction, but she was so very alone. Ravenous want and hunger now give the Snow King a new intention for the moment, and after taking only a fleeting moment to ravage her lithe frame with malicious eyes of his, he is set up motion. Great feathered wings unfurl and with that same sweeping motion, his ice flashes across the lush emerald carpet and are quick to trail up her hocks, leaving her fastened into place as they then begin to take on a lethal form as jagged points spring from then like thorns on a a rose stem. Should she struggle, those pretty little ebony legs of her would be sliced and bloody of they weren't already. A wicked and twisted chuckle rumbles from his powerful chest as he now steps from the shadows, the earth around him blanketed in glittering frost as the temperature begins to plummet and her icy shackles continuously thicken. When he is standing just behind his quarry, he brushes his cold lips against the supple and womanly curve of her hips, trailing down to where her tail begins.

"You seem so.... alone, my dear. Allow me to remedy that for you."

Perhaps it was the intoxicating scent that wafted from her, perhaps it was his wicked ambition to punish Rhaego for once again being absent and his little daughter not being nearby, and then again maybe it was both things but he does not try and contain himself as he rocks back onto his haunches, forelimbs grasping her sides forcibly and trapping her wings as he folds his own around the two of them. He is not gentle in his forced entrance to her temple, wild hunger and pleasure filling his mass as he pushes himself ever deeper, harder into her with each and every thrust, low groans of wicked delight slipping past his lips as ivories find purchase on her withers. At last when he can take no more, he releases himself into her as quickly as he had taken her, it is done and he slides from her back with devilish smirk. He comes to stand beside her now, trailing his cold skin along the elegant arch of her nape.

"You were delicious, my sweet."

He allows himself to linger there, knowing well that she just might lash out at him. But oh, he hoped that she would. It had been some time since last a woman tried to defy him and his wants, and he quite enjoyed the ones that struggled against him, even if it was hopeless.

Maverick
Stallion
11 years
Camarillo White Horse .x. Thoroughbred
Pure and true white, hazel eyes
ee/aa/W4kit/Dd/oo
White feathered wings
Ice Elemental/Flight
The Snow Plains
No Love


[Photo Copyright-Vandy2014]