Post by Pirate on Jul 25, 2006 11:53:13 GMT -5
Oh hear the mighty pounding, always pounding. It fills my ears, my heart, my soul. Each mighty paw does pound the turf. Each sword, each bayonet, lifted high, clanging, slashing, pounding all the same. War is nothing more than a steady beating, kept in rhythm by a drum. Such a simple thing, a child's toy, keeps the focus of two thousand warriors. The pounding keeps them, keeps us, sane. The beat, the rhythm. It empowers us. Makes us stronger. Makes us fearless...
A paw finally struck the surface of something hard. Something real. And from the shrouding blanketing fogs rose something magnificent. Something chisled of pure raw power. Something so young, and yet, so scarred. But his soul was still pure and remained unscathed. The mighty heart that pumped the blood through his veins knew only battle, battle of honor and revenge.
The chisled face, carved of a deep shadowing black struck forth past the invisible barrier of air, unable to compare but so real. The male darted off. Inhaling deep with every heavy footfall, his breath gave in outspread loud snorts, nares flaring as he did a quick burst, releasing some energy, then roaring back with unmatched speed. Shoulders bunched with every stretching step, the ground flattening under his large chassis, sending dirt flying with raw indents to the fine curvatures of earth. He was not tired, just hot. The sun beat down through the spacious gasps that outstrecthed from tree limb to tree limb and onto his back and left his legs in a strange feeling; they being slightly darker then the rest of his body, had him feeling an oddly soothing warmth about his knee joints down. Though the forest floor remained dark.
O furious drums, pounding in the ears of the challenger as blood rushed to the young males head, his mind a whirr as he put his thoughts to motion and functional blur. The brute slowed down slightly to a handsomely paced jog, shoulders rolling as he took purposeful strides, though to one it would not appear.
Auds flattend themselves and he gritted his teeth, the echoing caws of the mornful raven intertwined amoung the trees like threaded yarn with no apparent end to its tangling. Enough to drive one insane.
His running ceased, a quick walking stride replacing the long leaps and bounds. His head jerked side to side, yellow and pale eyes scanning the terrain for the wolves he was looking for. He couldn’t stop his racing mind, searching through the depths of his thoughts. His form was posed as it often was, impartial to the world although calmly accepting its existence. His head was down, lazily searching for scents that might answer his questions, even though he was finding less and less as the days passed and such elements washed them off. Pale eyes searched for another movement, just like always, and ears rotated to catch each flutter of bird and crunch of twig. Due to this, it wasn't too particularly surprising that he caught a moving object out of the corner of his eye. A brow raised and he moved to a position where he could get a better view. He waited.
A paw finally struck the surface of something hard. Something real. And from the shrouding blanketing fogs rose something magnificent. Something chisled of pure raw power. Something so young, and yet, so scarred. But his soul was still pure and remained unscathed. The mighty heart that pumped the blood through his veins knew only battle, battle of honor and revenge.
The chisled face, carved of a deep shadowing black struck forth past the invisible barrier of air, unable to compare but so real. The male darted off. Inhaling deep with every heavy footfall, his breath gave in outspread loud snorts, nares flaring as he did a quick burst, releasing some energy, then roaring back with unmatched speed. Shoulders bunched with every stretching step, the ground flattening under his large chassis, sending dirt flying with raw indents to the fine curvatures of earth. He was not tired, just hot. The sun beat down through the spacious gasps that outstrecthed from tree limb to tree limb and onto his back and left his legs in a strange feeling; they being slightly darker then the rest of his body, had him feeling an oddly soothing warmth about his knee joints down. Though the forest floor remained dark.
O furious drums, pounding in the ears of the challenger as blood rushed to the young males head, his mind a whirr as he put his thoughts to motion and functional blur. The brute slowed down slightly to a handsomely paced jog, shoulders rolling as he took purposeful strides, though to one it would not appear.
Auds flattend themselves and he gritted his teeth, the echoing caws of the mornful raven intertwined amoung the trees like threaded yarn with no apparent end to its tangling. Enough to drive one insane.
His running ceased, a quick walking stride replacing the long leaps and bounds. His head jerked side to side, yellow and pale eyes scanning the terrain for the wolves he was looking for. He couldn’t stop his racing mind, searching through the depths of his thoughts. His form was posed as it often was, impartial to the world although calmly accepting its existence. His head was down, lazily searching for scents that might answer his questions, even though he was finding less and less as the days passed and such elements washed them off. Pale eyes searched for another movement, just like always, and ears rotated to catch each flutter of bird and crunch of twig. Due to this, it wasn't too particularly surprising that he caught a moving object out of the corner of his eye. A brow raised and he moved to a position where he could get a better view. He waited.
