( enter the sandman ) (open)
Jan 22, 2015 8:47:45 GMT -8
Post by ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴀ ɴ ɴ ɪ s ᴛ ᴀ on Jan 22, 2015 8:47:45 GMT -8
The sun glistened high in the sky, content in warming the sand that basked beneath her. That warmth crawled along his pale spine, warming his very bones. He, to describe the being, was tall, pale and glistening in one package. Confined to a willowy frame and designed for the desert, he was nearly bare of fur and what hairs did adorn his back were short and exposed his follicles for all to see. His blue eyes should have seemed frosty in the pale depths, yet they portrayed the warmth that seemed to make up the day. His long limbs drew slowly over the sands, his hooves creating the crescent indents that left a path behind him. His neck, bare of a mane, was sloped and well muscled despite the telling exposure. It seemed to foretell of his sculpted jaw and the straight line of his face. His ears were tipped forward, listening to the desert fox that cried out as it drove into the sands and tore from its wispy grasp with a prize. He was, to say the least, quite content with how the day was unfolding. It seemed that his disposition was being portrayed in the blue of the sky and the calm silence of the near empty desert. He was a lighthearted creature, contented with the smallest things in life. He presented himself as he was, finding facades not so enjoyable as some did. He believed that his purpose was to show love and present warmth, despite his ability to cut one quick when it was needed.
His muscles twitched, an itch climbing his limbs and driving him to move a bit faster over the sands. He lowered his skull to adjust for the heightened gate and allowed his limbs to stretched to their limits. Curving them beneath his form, his hind limbs carried his weight for a moment, as he extended his forelimbs again and allowed the hooves to clutch at the earth. His head was tucked to his chest, blue eyes following the slope of the hill as he steadied his form just along the sands where the hill sloped downward and ran into another one at the bottom. Inhaling a salty gust of air, he clicked his tongue within his lips. He didn't find much to enjoy about the sand or how that dry oxygen filled the air. In fact, it was quite detestable to breath such thick gusts of it. In any case, he was enjoying himself far too much to allow such things to dampen his mood. His pale form seemed to chase the breeze as it curled over the land, as if he might step on that very wind and drift away. It was a fanciful thought that only occurred when one let themselves survive in the moment alone.
His father was generally the one concerned with chasing the fiends of the South back across the border when they attempted to creep into the North. Lately, however, there wasn't much of that to be done. It seemed that once Bastille had taken his father's place, word got out quickly that he was not quite as forgiving or easily swayed as his father. Where his sire might have ridden your heels until you turned back, the Perlino beast was more apt send you flailing back across the border with a wound for his troubles. His blue eyes changed was liquid and warmth in appearance to ice cold within the span of a moment. He had hoped to build his reputation to greater heights than his father had, but only time would tell if the ill-bred of the South were simply taking a break from their schemes, or aware that his form was what you met if you attempted to cross into the North. He wasn't one to look a gift in the face, however, so he didn't debate the cause too much. He took calmness as a cue to relax. It wasn't often that such an opportunity presented its self and he wasn't going to waste it.
ooc; It'll get better. X3 Not very happy with this, but it'll get better.
