08-24-2009, 03:50 PM
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i suck! i sorry!
“You are a rare curiosity,” he stated, in reference to her question as to exactly what kind of creature he regarded her as. “While I am something of connoisseur. I believe you can introduce me to battle techniques I have yet to encounter, and enlighten me in your unique style. Obviously, you are foreign, and that interests me immensely,” the coyote continued, smallest smile lingering on his lips. It appeared an ordinary expression to anyone who didn’t catch the faint shadow in his eyes—the way his expression didn’t quite erase the bloodlust from his gaze. He was truly interested in her ways of war, to learn something new and immerse himself in something he’d yet to see before. But he wasn’t utterly devoid of longings to fuck or maim this pretty little blue-marked thing. But that would have to wait until her children were born and she was at her life’s peak, ready to take him on at full potential. Screaming women that died easily held no real interest for the prince other than an occasional pastime to ease overwhelming boredom or desire. “Perhaps I will,” he replied, knowing he may very well seek her out when that time came rather than leave the potential of a further encounter to chance.
He picked her scent out of the salt-laden wind, committing it to memory and intending to not allow their lives to end without meeting again on this plane of existence. She was just as intrigued with him as he was with her—evidence hinting in the way she moved ever so slightly closer to him. Had she been repulsed she wouldn’t have inched closer, rather further away to escape his unwanted presence. “Clever,” the Hell Prince remarked, musing on her comment. He already knew and believed it, even if he’d never truly dwelt on the details before this moment. When facing death one’s true character emerged—whether they would stand their ground until the end, dying with their head held high or go down like a coward, crying and screaming without honestly doing anything about it. He’d seen many deaths before this moment, and he’d seen the truest, deepest exposing of character, whether unexpected or anticipated. And he looked forward to facing this woman on the battlefield, seeing if she lived up to his expectations or whether she would succumb to his fangs without a real fight. “What do you think you would find in me?” he asked, bloodstained gaze glinting with curiosity and darker malice, wondering what the woman would say.
“You are a rare curiosity,” he stated, in reference to her question as to exactly what kind of creature he regarded her as. “While I am something of connoisseur. I believe you can introduce me to battle techniques I have yet to encounter, and enlighten me in your unique style. Obviously, you are foreign, and that interests me immensely,” the coyote continued, smallest smile lingering on his lips. It appeared an ordinary expression to anyone who didn’t catch the faint shadow in his eyes—the way his expression didn’t quite erase the bloodlust from his gaze. He was truly interested in her ways of war, to learn something new and immerse himself in something he’d yet to see before. But he wasn’t utterly devoid of longings to fuck or maim this pretty little blue-marked thing. But that would have to wait until her children were born and she was at her life’s peak, ready to take him on at full potential. Screaming women that died easily held no real interest for the prince other than an occasional pastime to ease overwhelming boredom or desire. “Perhaps I will,” he replied, knowing he may very well seek her out when that time came rather than leave the potential of a further encounter to chance.
He picked her scent out of the salt-laden wind, committing it to memory and intending to not allow their lives to end without meeting again on this plane of existence. She was just as intrigued with him as he was with her—evidence hinting in the way she moved ever so slightly closer to him. Had she been repulsed she wouldn’t have inched closer, rather further away to escape his unwanted presence. “Clever,” the Hell Prince remarked, musing on her comment. He already knew and believed it, even if he’d never truly dwelt on the details before this moment. When facing death one’s true character emerged—whether they would stand their ground until the end, dying with their head held high or go down like a coward, crying and screaming without honestly doing anything about it. He’d seen many deaths before this moment, and he’d seen the truest, deepest exposing of character, whether unexpected or anticipated. And he looked forward to facing this woman on the battlefield, seeing if she lived up to his expectations or whether she would succumb to his fangs without a real fight. “What do you think you would find in me?” he asked, bloodstained gaze glinting with curiosity and darker malice, wondering what the woman would say.