12-28-2009, 06:53 AM
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The stranger approached him, moving with no lack of purpose. Larkspur knew his intentions, so clearly displayed in the ritualized dominance. Even in the Khalif, they had known of such things—especially Lakrspur, so tainted by his dark fur. Except now he recognized that the grip of evil was strong here, grasping onto any and everything it could. These people allowed it and more terribly, embraced such a thing. Even in the Khalif they had fought against the Black, knowing it to be wicked. This was why he bore bleached fur and holy signs. Misery had shown him the path, but it was now necessary for him to embrace his destiny.
Now, staring into the eyes of a devil, Larkspur realized he was not alone in this. He saw the glimmer of that same knowledge in the scarred wolf. Furthermore, the heat radiating from Haku’s body was not his own, but Tak’s fire. That was what he saw in the man’s eyes, just as he had seen it in Misery’s. Had he known the truth of the matter—had he known it was the fever-bright gaze of madness—he might have been wary. Instead, he felt no fear, but a familiarity that was unwarranted. Without a doubt, he was facing down potential disaster. Like all fools, for this was what he was, Larkspur only stared into the face of an unknown and terrible storm.
The storm’s voice spoke, but it was not the thunder he expected. Orange eyes darkened, then refocused on the bombardier blue they were facing. “Ay, dihn then. Y’carry it,” he added, though he recognized that the man’s power was not his own. Slowly, as if waiting for a physical reaction, the burly wolf continued. “I dun’t plan t’keep you, but I’m lookin’ for m’kin.” Misery had not brought them here for nothing.
The stranger approached him, moving with no lack of purpose. Larkspur knew his intentions, so clearly displayed in the ritualized dominance. Even in the Khalif, they had known of such things—especially Lakrspur, so tainted by his dark fur. Except now he recognized that the grip of evil was strong here, grasping onto any and everything it could. These people allowed it and more terribly, embraced such a thing. Even in the Khalif they had fought against the Black, knowing it to be wicked. This was why he bore bleached fur and holy signs. Misery had shown him the path, but it was now necessary for him to embrace his destiny.
Now, staring into the eyes of a devil, Larkspur realized he was not alone in this. He saw the glimmer of that same knowledge in the scarred wolf. Furthermore, the heat radiating from Haku’s body was not his own, but Tak’s fire. That was what he saw in the man’s eyes, just as he had seen it in Misery’s. Had he known the truth of the matter—had he known it was the fever-bright gaze of madness—he might have been wary. Instead, he felt no fear, but a familiarity that was unwarranted. Without a doubt, he was facing down potential disaster. Like all fools, for this was what he was, Larkspur only stared into the face of an unknown and terrible storm.
The storm’s voice spoke, but it was not the thunder he expected. Orange eyes darkened, then refocused on the bombardier blue they were facing. “Ay, dihn then. Y’carry it,” he added, though he recognized that the man’s power was not his own. Slowly, as if waiting for a physical reaction, the burly wolf continued. “I dun’t plan t’keep you, but I’m lookin’ for m’kin.” Misery had not brought them here for nothing.
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