down the burning ropes

Sirius Revlis · 03-01-2012, 10:47 PM

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*steals* >> Word Count: 3+

Sirius by Nat

Dark tendrils curled about his paws, wisps of mist forming cool fingers that parted for huge, wicked claws. The monarch rarely used his four-legged form - His adoration for the civil, gentry two-legged shape served a deep favoritism for civilization, for progression. But the steed he often rode in that form, a silvery mare that appeared to be made of moonbeams and air, was heavily in-foal and un-ridable. Thus, his fastest form was in use.

The shadows clung to his dark, dappled pelt, like a cloak. In this form, Sirius was a strange-looking creature; A bizarre mixture of coyote and wolf blood. He was tall, taller than most wolves, but rather than retaining their thick musculature, was long and lean. He was a creature made up of sharp angles, of bristling pelt, huge paws and ears, and glowing acidic eyes - Like a lanky hell-hound, fearful in appearance when he lingered in the dark. But, to many of the Family, the sight of the King was a precious thing. For, in spite of his strange anatomical mixture, Sirius was undeniably regal in carriage; His satellite ears were held high atop his crown, the short tuft where a long, luxurious tail had been held high also. His huge paws were silent were they walked, leaving behind big prints in the soft, marshy soil.

The King was headed towards the residence of his Auxiliary. Eris held a strange spot within the man's twisted heart - She was invaluable, precious, undeniably the closest thing to true family that he had in the thistle realm. Her flaws complimented his own, and thus their rule was strong. The thistle king commanded his people with serpent's fangs; beautiful, and yet deadly, and for this it seemed he was respected. Eris, however, commanded them through some form of sickly love; Salsolans far and wide seemed to adore her, and her ghastly, twisted ways.

It was rare that he sought the woman out at her residence, but they had much to discuss. Since the Sequoians, Sirius' mind had constantly been turning over. He needed more fortification within their ranks, needed more weapons, needed more livestock to maintain their growing numbers, needed to discuss an idea he was forming about one of their neighboring packs--

The train of thought was cut off suddenly, as a scent curled around his black nose. The king stilled instantly, his eyes scouring the familiar territory. Slowly, large paws carried him toward the scent, revealing the smaller form of a girl. Not bothering to conceal his presence, the thistle monarch's large ears lifted forward, and a thoughtful purr thrummed like a growl deep within his chest. The sound permeated the relative silence, finally oozing out his maw in a deep, caramel voice. "And who have we here?" He knew instantly, by her sight and smell, that this was a daughter of Lark and Eris. He did not, however, know how much she knew of him - This was one daughter he had never had the pleasure of meeting directly. She would know his scent, surely, for he had frequented the area about her den often enough - Perhaps, she would know his appearance too, from the times that he had come to speak with her mother or father.

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