<font color=#4e3c33 size=1>a generation of degenerate beauty queens</font>

a generation of degenerate beauty queens
IP: 82.19.140.112
Posted on February 15, 2014 at 01:53:44 AM by thyri

Warning: this post contains adult themes.

There was someone else in the woods, smelling of ancient magic that was strong enough to force its way through the metallic stench of the blood that adhered itself to the fur of his muzzle. It was getting closer to his mistress, dragging its scent through the snow drifts. Arnor growled, the sound rumbling in his throat as he reluctantly pulled his head free of the deer�s chest cavity, an organ clenched between his teeth. His large paws carried him easily over the uneven ground, never stopping or stumbling as he cut his way through the ice. Scarlet blood dripped from his prize, leaving a path of drips through the freshly fallen whiteness. The smell of the two fairy women grew stronger, and he quickened his face, mounting the incline that lead to the stone circle and barrow, untroubled by the thickening fog.

Thyri pulled her hand away from the stone when she heard the unfamiliar voice from behind her, and her green eyes narrowed as they fixed themselves upon the strange woman. The pale blonde of her hair was almost lost in the white of the falling snow and her voice...there was something about her voice that almost made her seem like a phantom.
�They are,� Thyri agreed, resting her hand flat upon the stone again, �but they don�t belong here.� The stories depicted upon their surfaces were not tales of Shaman, they were too weather, too old to belong to a world so young. These stones boasted of the magic of ancient far away Gods, Gods who were as wild and unpredictable as the wind. They were as Gods should be.

Blood did enter the clearing. Arnor moved silently around the stones and positioned himself between his mistress and the stranger. He had smelled her before in the Pantheon corridors, and again with his master on the beach. She had not been hostile to his master, they had just looked at each other like faerie�s do and growled their understanding of one another. It did not mean that she was not a danger to Thyri however; few wise creatures threatened his master openly. The dog placed the deer�s heart down at his feet, so he might better show Styx his teeth. Thyri did nothing to stop him, nor did she acknowledge his presence.
�I wonder where they came from,� she pressed, tipping back her hood to reveal her shock of rich red hair as she pressed her cold cheeks against frozen stone, �if they could speak, I wonder what they would say?�

The wind picked up and the dance of the snowflakes became more frenzied as they circled closer around the dog and the fairy women. Thyri almost lost sight of Styx it pressed it so thickly about her, and she was glad when Arnor took a step backwards and pressed his hind quarters against the side of her leg.
�Lorraine is feeling particularly vindictive today I see,� the Danish woman noted, glancing up at the pink-tinged sky above their heads, �they say that this world lost a prince in weather like this. Careless of them, don�t you think?�

_{photography by MaxNegro at flickr.com}
Replies:

a song of steel and gold - By styx February 22, 2014 at 07:21:06 PM

Post a reply:

<-- -->

Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:

Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post: