Rainforest Cliffs
11-13-2017, 05:50 AM
angel, wrestle me
crack my sides to let me see
crack my sides to let me see
The eyes still followed him. Blinking within the deep of the jungle. Winking out the second his gaze turned towards them. But they were there, he could feel them. See them out of the corner of his stormy gaze. Like the stranger wandering the jungle he could feel the ominous air of this land. Like a demented, misshapen beast that has been defiled by a darkness that has twisted its soul. His own soul felts its taint trying to reach out to it. Destroy it like it had this land. He refused to let it change him. This land was his home now. But he refused to let it change him. He would find a light within this world and grasp it with all of his might. There had to be something good within it Surely its core was not completely corrupt? Ever the optimist Roscorro was determined to find something to love about this new prison.
As we wove his way through the jungle the winged stallion paused here and there when a shiny rock or item caught his eye. As he collected each piece, he also paused to pull down some thin vines and ivy from the trees. Clutching them within one of his talons, he continued on. With each piece the vision that formed within his mind was coming together. He only wished he had some leather rather than pieces of plant fibers to use for his base. It had been a while since he had sat down to weave a bracelet. He needed to get his mind off of things and the action of weaving often helped him to do so. As he stopped to examine another stone, considering whether or not it would work with what he was making, he heard the sound of another pushing their way through the foliage. Ears pricked forward the stallion waited for the other to come into his line of sight. His muscles were taught as coiled springs, readying to leap into actions the second a sign of danger presented itself. His wings remained tucked at his side to avoid entangling them among the vines.
All the while those eyes watched him...
"TALK HERE"
As we wove his way through the jungle the winged stallion paused here and there when a shiny rock or item caught his eye. As he collected each piece, he also paused to pull down some thin vines and ivy from the trees. Clutching them within one of his talons, he continued on. With each piece the vision that formed within his mind was coming together. He only wished he had some leather rather than pieces of plant fibers to use for his base. It had been a while since he had sat down to weave a bracelet. He needed to get his mind off of things and the action of weaving often helped him to do so. As he stopped to examine another stone, considering whether or not it would work with what he was making, he heard the sound of another pushing their way through the foliage. Ears pricked forward the stallion waited for the other to come into his line of sight. His muscles were taught as coiled springs, readying to leap into actions the second a sign of danger presented itself. His wings remained tucked at his side to avoid entangling them among the vines.
All the while those eyes watched him...
"TALK HERE"
that if the end will set me free
or send me down below
or send me down below
Roscarro
image credit to jonathon_brandt at flickr
@Raein
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
