and the world turns around

Heath morte dre Soul · 03-19-2010, 10:34 PM

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The horse’s head lowered, and the rider steered Lumière so that her side faced the stranger. Honey eyes looked down at him, taking in the sight of the stranger. But then, it was no stranger at all. The mare’s dark eyes watched the scarred male, just as intensely as the hybrid that rode her. Few words came from his mouth, and Heath found that nothing came to him but a frown. The male that stood before him, hovering at his home’s doorstep was none other then his father. The knowledge of it sent a jolt through him, running from his hand through the reins and making the mare’s head rise and fall with a matching stomp and snort.

With a swift movement the black and tawny male dismounted and stood on solid ground. Still she was uneasy, but his grasp on her lead was firm. All the memories rose, the knowledge of what had happened in the past had not filtered away with time. Such a thing could not be whitewashed and over looked. His brother and sister were lost to him, and if Heath was to blame anyone it was the male standing before him. Not to mention the death of his mother. He was the cause of that as well.

Just as he had before Heath was not faced with the ravenous monster that lived in his memories of his youth. No, it was simply the shell. The evidence was written all over his body, and narrowed amber eyes read them once more, though his ravenous anger no longer shadowed his gaze. “Why are you here?” He asked, his deep voice as rough as ever. There was nothing he enjoyed about the presence of the male, how could he reach and find anything but the bitterness and the hate that had been planted there at such an impressionable age?

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