Post by Sabaoth on Apr 27, 2015 14:39:52 GMT -5
Mother earth herself seemed to bow before him. Each quivering blade of grass fell like wounded soldiers beneath his monstrous paws, imprints in the dirt whispering of his arrival long after he’d passed. The colossus moved with sure-footed confidence, his considerable bulk navigating across the terrain, head held high and pale eyes ablaze. The sunlight’s radiant beams warmed the thick fur along his spine, shedding light upon the coarse ebony hairs streaked with slate and ivory, marred only by the thick ropes of scars slashed across his pale muzzle, lurking above one icy orb, and snaking down across the thick, muscled forelegs. He’d forgotten them the moment they’d healed; if anything they were a testimony to his ferocity, puckered pink trophies that he did not need to explain. They spoke volumes for themselves. He could still remember the evening he received them during his vicious battle with the mother cougar, spurned in the wake of his terrible rage. He could still feel the sharp burst of agony as her claws had raked across his face, catching both muzzle and brow, releasing a hot burst of crimson that had trickled into one eye and splattered across the earth. He’d fought still, his muzzle slick with fluid and gore, one eye blinded by the gush of it, but fortunately unscathed from the cougar’s claws. He could remember his triumph as his jaws had closed around her throat, her terrified snarl dying in her throat along with the light in her ferocious eyes as she crumpled in the pool of their mingled blood. It had been a fearsome battle, one that still caused pride to surge within Sabaoth’s breast, a miniscule smile ghosting his lips as he walked and reminisced.
Winter was beginning to relinquish her hold on the land, creeping slowly away while shamelessly leaving many chilly mornings in her wake, warring with the persistent sun while lingering for as long as she would be allowed. With her sluggish departure came the inevitable slush of muck and frost, clinging stubbornly to the beast’s legs as he moved towards an unseen point in the distance. He’d found himself in a strange portion of the continent that he had not visited before, and so he allowed his paws to take him where they would. As it turned out, it was towards a river.
He could hear the soft rushing of the currents long before he spotted the water. As he grew closer his triangular ears tipped forward, erect and rigid atop his skull as the river finally came into focus. It was not particularly wide in the sense that most rivers were, and yet he could tell from his vantage point that it was deep in the center, the quick flow of the currents deceptively tame compared to the viciousness should one be sucked underneath. Perhaps he could have crossed if he dared, leaving the land of Caurus to move into Tiayr, although the names of the territories were unknown to the brute. He was larger than most, his considerable mass and the thickness of his legs an even match against the formidable stream…and yet there was always the off chance that he was becoming too secure and arrogant with his size. Perhaps the river was his superior. Regardless, it was a cold morning, and Sabaoth was not particularly keen to test the limits of his body in the frigid waters. He approached slowly, almost leisurely, stopping on the muddy banks, his paws sinking halfway into the muck. The sides of the river were shallow, branching out to dip lower and lower beneath the water until one could not see the mahogany mud any longer. He cast a quick glance around to confirm that he was alone before dipping his head, his wide pink tongue darting out from between his black trimmed lips to lap at the water. It was nearly glacial in temperature, stinging his throat as it slid past his ivory teeth, crisp and refreshing after the prickling had faded. On and on he went, sating his considerable thirst, until suddenly the skin along his spine began to crawl. His tongue darted back into his mouth, jaws snapping shut as the giant lifted his head, icy blue gaze scanning the stretch of land behind him and then the distant shore. He did not call out to whoever lurked there, if anyone at all; they would either show themselves, or they would flee. Regardless, Sabaoth was nearly certain that he was no longer alone.
Winter was beginning to relinquish her hold on the land, creeping slowly away while shamelessly leaving many chilly mornings in her wake, warring with the persistent sun while lingering for as long as she would be allowed. With her sluggish departure came the inevitable slush of muck and frost, clinging stubbornly to the beast’s legs as he moved towards an unseen point in the distance. He’d found himself in a strange portion of the continent that he had not visited before, and so he allowed his paws to take him where they would. As it turned out, it was towards a river.
He could hear the soft rushing of the currents long before he spotted the water. As he grew closer his triangular ears tipped forward, erect and rigid atop his skull as the river finally came into focus. It was not particularly wide in the sense that most rivers were, and yet he could tell from his vantage point that it was deep in the center, the quick flow of the currents deceptively tame compared to the viciousness should one be sucked underneath. Perhaps he could have crossed if he dared, leaving the land of Caurus to move into Tiayr, although the names of the territories were unknown to the brute. He was larger than most, his considerable mass and the thickness of his legs an even match against the formidable stream…and yet there was always the off chance that he was becoming too secure and arrogant with his size. Perhaps the river was his superior. Regardless, it was a cold morning, and Sabaoth was not particularly keen to test the limits of his body in the frigid waters. He approached slowly, almost leisurely, stopping on the muddy banks, his paws sinking halfway into the muck. The sides of the river were shallow, branching out to dip lower and lower beneath the water until one could not see the mahogany mud any longer. He cast a quick glance around to confirm that he was alone before dipping his head, his wide pink tongue darting out from between his black trimmed lips to lap at the water. It was nearly glacial in temperature, stinging his throat as it slid past his ivory teeth, crisp and refreshing after the prickling had faded. On and on he went, sating his considerable thirst, until suddenly the skin along his spine began to crawl. His tongue darted back into his mouth, jaws snapping shut as the giant lifted his head, icy blue gaze scanning the stretch of land behind him and then the distant shore. He did not call out to whoever lurked there, if anyone at all; they would either show themselves, or they would flee. Regardless, Sabaoth was nearly certain that he was no longer alone.
TAG: Roka
WORDS: 752