|
|
Post by AS Admin on May 7, 2007 21:52:37 GMT -5
avalonsteppe.proboards58.com/index.cgi
A brute wandered upon the land, brisk movements made as he dared the wind to taunt him. Coming to a halt, the ebonite painted stag lifted his head, nasal caverns flaring wildly as he settled himself uneasily upon a bluff. His small, coal occuli snagged upon the few bantles who dared to frolic over the land, visage tossed ‘bout wildly. His pelt was caked with that of mud and whatnot though ‘neath it lay a belt of unwanted scars, each licking his pelt with their own tale to tell. He was often quite gruff, not caring to particularly speak of what each scar meant, not needing to boast. A few lines had been traced at the corners of his mug, wearing the hair around his maw thin. They too had their own story behind him, one which he was growing tired of telling. And yet, he needed not to for every one in these lands knew it well.
Centuries ago, two leggeds ran these lands. Avalon Steppe was the name they had presented it with. Despite the fact that horses were meant to be wild creatures, many of these humans found fit to use the equines as slaves. Those of a gentle nature went along easily, enjoying the companionship that the two leggeds provided. Even those spirited souls who resisted the authority of another species were eventually broken; all accept one.
Feeling a twitching at the corners of his maw, the brute grew uneasy, his bones creaking slightly with age. He was up there now, a few hundred years as the myth was told. He himself didn’t think much of it but merely went along with life, ignoring the constant whispers of those ‘bout him. Tracing the edges of the land with his gaze, the hessian easily pictured what belonged to his past. Blowing rather agitatedly at the thought, bulk swung around, nipping roughly at the dead herbage for something to do.
One of those individual souls was that exact one who refused to give in to the human nature. Hardly reaching four winters of life, a jet black demon lurked the lands. Quite agile for his size, escaping was easy enough. He did his best to stay far from the two leggeds and yet, found it all too amusing to taunt them in his own ways. Stirring up trouble quite often left him time to study each of those in the village, picking out one such human who was like him in more ways than one. Still, he let him be.
Today, the titan was finding it much to difficult to settle himself, longing for his memories to leave him for the moment. A flint struck out at the unworthy sod, emitting a blow which echoed slightly in the desolate land. Though trying to avoid the subject, the brujo found his gaze wandering towards the towering, hollow tree. T’was here where history unraveled itself.
The bastard would never be tamed but he found himself teamed with the two legged who stuck out to him. The human himself seemed to rebel against the others though he knew of the stallions strength, could see it within his orbs. T’was only a matter of months before the ivory snow blanketed the ground, bringing forth battle along with it. The two leggeds of the village found necessary to slay this dangerous individual and therefore, the steed’s speed was of great use. He had taken this human far way though while in hiding, he was captured and beheaded. Decapitated and in pieces, his bodice was cursed and placed beneath the old hollow tree, many of the humans hoping to release the devil believed to be in the stag. T’was no use.
He was no one to quit. Quiet in his ways, the brujo knew his duty was to wait for his master to return once again. And oh, he would. The two leggeds had long since died off after all these years of protecting the d**ned tree though he still found his home here in hopes of fulfilling his duties. Shifting uneasily, he wandered over towards the deathly looking thing, easily bypassing the foot snagging roots. Glancing down at the sod which had long since been dug up, he brought himself off the ground, pillars cutting through the air as he balanced himself on muscular haunches.
How much longer will Avalon be safe?
These are his lands and as promised by the stag, hell shall return.
This was Hollow.
Banner;
<**a href="http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b185/SundancePics/horse-1.jpg/" target="Avalon Steppe"><img src="http://tinypic.com/view.php?pic=6438sgm" width="88" height="33" border="0" alt="heartsliesfriends "></**a>
|
|
