Post by Aazia on Jan 23, 2005 20:15:01 GMT -5
»Personne a dit c'était facile est beau,
Ce peut être un cadeau
Et de temps en temps ce peut être un fardeau.«<br>
The darkness was gratifying, such freedom it epitomized. It was within the obliged veil of the night that slaughter was achieved, hatred was brewed. Ah, the night. Yet it too bore its suffocating qualities. All that harmed you strengthened you. Puh. Good survived upon evil, evil fed upon good. T’was a fact, a law, one proven true time after time. There was no good without evil. There was only relief. Only the relief when death poured its milky sweet venom down your throat. They break, they all break. Depends on how easily they are broken. Yet now it came to a point when one could not remember when they were broken, why they were broken, and how. Only the pain continued, stabbing mockingly, cackling at your fumbling confusion. Evil loved to toy with its toys so, toy, torture to the point of insanity. Sanity, a state of mind in which the mind is completely in control, unfettered by the minds own demons. As if such a lovely state of mind could remain untouched. Ai, back in the day a lesson had been pounded within many young brains, don't give up, and keep pushing. Whatever harmed you strengthened you.
A low snort tore the tranquil atmosphere as the she beast was awakened from her slumber. Clawing and heaving till it dispersed in the heavens, rousing the small creatures huddled within their nests. The rumble delivered with such ferocity that the young ones sidled closer to their citadels of comfort. If only it were that simple. The darkness revealed little, silence settled its fluffy wings over the arena once more. She really was insane wasn't she? Yet she wasn't slobbering and drooling over the earth, ligaments twitching like the many crazed idiots she'd come across. Movement. The she-beast had shifted, so charily obscured that darkness would declare to all eyes that nothing was there. But there was. Twin ellipsoids fused of the night’s proudest nuances flickered lightly about, seeking the fine details that depthless pupils magnified. Their pools glacial void of all emotion but darkness. Pure, and frigid, a steel trap for all who dared stumble within those eyes. There was no presence, no apparition in this area. Yet her feeling would not subside. Oxygen sped soundless into ashen nares, dragging with them a wide mosaic of colognes, all of which were of wolves, of course, bloody hell... she'd come to the loam of a pack!? A bud of hatred trembled nearly bursting open.
Grumbling inaudibly to herself, she continued to stalk through the shadows of the trees, regal crown raised just as high as any alpha's if not higher, her tiara was followed by that bushy-silken plume which was wavering ever so slightly as she walked. A smirk formed upon obsidian labrums as the hellion continued on, prancing about as if she owned these lands, which in her mind she did. She half laughed at the thought of someone coming along and demanding her to lower herself and grovel at their paws like some had in the past. She snorted at this thought as well, finding it extremely amusing that anyone would dare come along and order her about. The last wolf whom had done so could no longer breathe without straining, they wheezed and they would remain that way forever, no magical healing herb could help. Their once milky-sweet voice was now raspy and bone chilling... that pregnant dog of an alphena back in the Twilight Shadows. Hah, she'd showed her... she'd show them all. No one pushed around little Aazia and got away with it. No one, even if they were the queen or lord of the lands, no one could push her around and live to tell about it without some form of a scar... some worse then others. And that was that.
As she sniffed the air again, she made note of the scent. It was a singular scent; she was the first one to come across this place and join, unless the others scents were too old and faded to even smell. As soon as she made sure he, the Alpha, was close, she sat back on her haunches. Once again, the wind made her sleeker than she really was; the snow on her neck and face sparkled liek stars, and her tiger eyes blazed across the tundra liek brittle orange-yellow gems. Raising her head, she howled a long silveyr note that hung on the air for a few seconds before it was whisked away by the wind. Now she lay down, waiting for Him to arrive.
»No one said it was easy being beautiful,
It can be a gift
And at times it can be a burden..«
[/center]Ce peut être un cadeau
Et de temps en temps ce peut être un fardeau.«<br>
The darkness was gratifying, such freedom it epitomized. It was within the obliged veil of the night that slaughter was achieved, hatred was brewed. Ah, the night. Yet it too bore its suffocating qualities. All that harmed you strengthened you. Puh. Good survived upon evil, evil fed upon good. T’was a fact, a law, one proven true time after time. There was no good without evil. There was only relief. Only the relief when death poured its milky sweet venom down your throat. They break, they all break. Depends on how easily they are broken. Yet now it came to a point when one could not remember when they were broken, why they were broken, and how. Only the pain continued, stabbing mockingly, cackling at your fumbling confusion. Evil loved to toy with its toys so, toy, torture to the point of insanity. Sanity, a state of mind in which the mind is completely in control, unfettered by the minds own demons. As if such a lovely state of mind could remain untouched. Ai, back in the day a lesson had been pounded within many young brains, don't give up, and keep pushing. Whatever harmed you strengthened you.
A low snort tore the tranquil atmosphere as the she beast was awakened from her slumber. Clawing and heaving till it dispersed in the heavens, rousing the small creatures huddled within their nests. The rumble delivered with such ferocity that the young ones sidled closer to their citadels of comfort. If only it were that simple. The darkness revealed little, silence settled its fluffy wings over the arena once more. She really was insane wasn't she? Yet she wasn't slobbering and drooling over the earth, ligaments twitching like the many crazed idiots she'd come across. Movement. The she-beast had shifted, so charily obscured that darkness would declare to all eyes that nothing was there. But there was. Twin ellipsoids fused of the night’s proudest nuances flickered lightly about, seeking the fine details that depthless pupils magnified. Their pools glacial void of all emotion but darkness. Pure, and frigid, a steel trap for all who dared stumble within those eyes. There was no presence, no apparition in this area. Yet her feeling would not subside. Oxygen sped soundless into ashen nares, dragging with them a wide mosaic of colognes, all of which were of wolves, of course, bloody hell... she'd come to the loam of a pack!? A bud of hatred trembled nearly bursting open.
Grumbling inaudibly to herself, she continued to stalk through the shadows of the trees, regal crown raised just as high as any alpha's if not higher, her tiara was followed by that bushy-silken plume which was wavering ever so slightly as she walked. A smirk formed upon obsidian labrums as the hellion continued on, prancing about as if she owned these lands, which in her mind she did. She half laughed at the thought of someone coming along and demanding her to lower herself and grovel at their paws like some had in the past. She snorted at this thought as well, finding it extremely amusing that anyone would dare come along and order her about. The last wolf whom had done so could no longer breathe without straining, they wheezed and they would remain that way forever, no magical healing herb could help. Their once milky-sweet voice was now raspy and bone chilling... that pregnant dog of an alphena back in the Twilight Shadows. Hah, she'd showed her... she'd show them all. No one pushed around little Aazia and got away with it. No one, even if they were the queen or lord of the lands, no one could push her around and live to tell about it without some form of a scar... some worse then others. And that was that.
As she sniffed the air again, she made note of the scent. It was a singular scent; she was the first one to come across this place and join, unless the others scents were too old and faded to even smell. As soon as she made sure he, the Alpha, was close, she sat back on her haunches. Once again, the wind made her sleeker than she really was; the snow on her neck and face sparkled liek stars, and her tiger eyes blazed across the tundra liek brittle orange-yellow gems. Raising her head, she howled a long silveyr note that hung on the air for a few seconds before it was whisked away by the wind. Now she lay down, waiting for Him to arrive.
»No one said it was easy being beautiful,
It can be a gift
And at times it can be a burden..«
