Post by dream on Jun 10, 2009 16:17:00 GMT -5
The smell of rusty ash dances through the femmora's nostrils as she prances along. Reminding everyone who saw as a dancer, her muscles twitch and stretch fluidly; every hoof-step as graceful as the last. Muscles roll smoothly beneath a tight-ridden pelt of dark bay fur, the kind that never seem to tire and only become stronger. Dished visage arch like a finely crafted bridge, pressed almost uncomfortably to a slender nape - but it wasn't uncomfortable, it was completely natural. Straight, sleek locks of black and gold cascade down her neck; bouncing against her long legs with every trotted step. She was a beautiful creature, with eyes the color of burnt (if not slightly golden) chocolate and a petite physique. You would think that she belonged to a herd by now, but you would be wrong. With her beautiful outside comes a nasty inside. A place where all creatures writhe and thrash with pain and suffering, where everyone feels her pain - she doesn't discriminate here. Attitude, harshness, condescending critisism - they are all qualities that she is in possession of and nutures like they were her own children. Trustworthy? Respectful? The girl that's just going through a hard time? Time to wake up my dears, because this is the real deal. This is the one that wouldn't hesitate to spill your blood all over her ivories of pure white, to darken her bay pelt with dirt and grime as she wrestles you to the ground - she's the monster in the scary stories mothers tell their children to make them behave. So don't underestimate what you cannot see - what she hides so intelligently.
Others, however, still find it necassary to challenge her. To question the dominance she so obviously has. Not the kind you gain through fights and battles, through wisdom and courage; but the stuff you're born with. Some were meant to lead, others were meant to follow - she was meant to lead. Before she even neared the border, she knew that benders patrolled there; trying to keep their prescious little land save. But little did she know that they would be so stubborn. Still this stallion bender blocks her path, still this foolish colt refuses to let her see her King. Still he stands with his head held high as if he's apart of some Royal Family - like he's related to Shattered himself. Ha! Lightning thinks with a whisk of her tail. Once more she tells him to move, to allow her to enter and talk to the one her people bow down to without question. Again, he refuses - but Lightning doesn't care. Snorting she takes a step forward - and he advances upon her. Lowering her head, flicking her ears back and baring her teeth; she almost growls. She can feel the magic in the air. Not the kind that tingles against your skin and makes the wind grow light - but the kind that weighs down on you and threatens hostility. It's an uncomfortable feeling, but she has carried this weight on her shoulders before.
Her head lowers, not in an effort to show her subbordinate status, but to keep her vitals safe and secure. Should this come to a fight she wasn't going to be the one to back down. Oh no, she was going to win. "Back off brute." She hisses. For this ones sake, she hoped the King or another member of the herd came to his defense. She wasn't one to back down, but she knew when she was beat.
Words In Play---->
five.nine.three
Characters Involved---->
Black Lightning|||?
Purpose---->
To Meet Her King
Music---->
Greed - Godsmack[/blockquote]