10-30-2021, 04:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-31-2021, 02:48 PM by Vendrussel. Edited 1 time in total.)
Through the waking of the night, the gentle sound of waves coming through as but a fog covers the darkness of the midnight ocean. A yawning sound within the distance, beasts unrest as they call within their own shadows. Lifeless, bleak, stoney and cold through the bitter north of it's sea-love, though treasures crave to it's shores.
The dragon of the north, an Alpha of her land — death thought to take thee' and yet she had survived. A falling to her doom, days coming through, she looked in bitterness on her final day while diving to it's depths. Though the world she lives in — the plains that called her into existence said she was not ready, as though the ancient dragons cradled her in whispers of blessings. Gifted, she was, chosen they told her, though not to the pinnacle of the beloved life, she was the exception.
The waves hugs her, splashing the wolf through it's harsh times before settling in the quietness, a gentle wave to push her throat the beaches. Yet, she was cold to the touch, some to think death had caught up if it were not for the coughing of the sea water. A blank eye looking out in a haze, for she was alive.
As the ancients do decided.
But conscious wouldn't remain too long, and Vendrussel, fell back into an unconscious state — gravely injured by the beach shores. A blanket of red quietly forms beneath her.
@Kei
(though tagged anyone can join)
The dragon of the north, an Alpha of her land — death thought to take thee' and yet she had survived. A falling to her doom, days coming through, she looked in bitterness on her final day while diving to it's depths. Though the world she lives in — the plains that called her into existence said she was not ready, as though the ancient dragons cradled her in whispers of blessings. Gifted, she was, chosen they told her, though not to the pinnacle of the beloved life, she was the exception.
The waves hugs her, splashing the wolf through it's harsh times before settling in the quietness, a gentle wave to push her throat the beaches. Yet, she was cold to the touch, some to think death had caught up if it were not for the coughing of the sea water. A blank eye looking out in a haze, for she was alive.
As the ancients do decided.
But conscious wouldn't remain too long, and Vendrussel, fell back into an unconscious state — gravely injured by the beach shores. A blanket of red quietly forms beneath her.
@Kei
(though tagged anyone can join)
the staff team luvs u