Post by xxx sorrow on May 2, 2007 18:55:37 GMT -5
[Call Me]
{Silhouettestar}
{She-cat}
[You've Known Me For]
{40 Moons}
[You Rate Me As]
{Clan Leader}
{SecretClan}
[Scarred With]
{Being like an eclipse on that seemingly perfect Spring day in which you were thought to be happy but the ranks of black depression overpower all moods. Windows like chocolate hazelnut which portray nothing but hatred for the rest of the world and every soul in it. Not to say this creature cant be a stealthy inhabitant. Pride of how fate played itself out could been seen in this she-cats movements, who would not be proud if they were to lead a clan, to accomplish their goals in what seemed only a short while. Who wouldnt walk with pride to every step, yet every step darkened with disdain}
[Feels]
{To not be a light dweller, and despite certain outward physical attributes of which could make her seem almost toofriendly. Not to worry she would never love again, her feelings of hatred seemingly overpowered all that of caring towards every other living creature upon this world of which she named Hell. Yes for this world was nothing but stupidity and compassion. Both of which were anything but a good thing for this feline. Who wouldnt hate the world and everything in it if not for her past. Nevertheless she gave no mind to it, lonliness suited her well and she need not anyone to help her. }
[My Life]
{How very nosy of one to ask of this creations history, for which she has none so important to put forth into this seemingly endless world. Not to worry though she had one, just as every other creature. To feel loved but only to be backstabbed, to survive on your own, to feel neglected, to be left for dead, to fend for themself. Some of the many situations which appeared in lives. One in particular being this creatures desolate life. So to show no passion, compassion or trust, is one to really blame such a troubled mind for its actions. For its actions of want, want to strike at the world and all that harmed this soul. Can one flame such a mind for wanting to take revenge upon their hurt? Guess thats to decide on ones own self, not for someone else.}
[Hear Me]
{The cloak of night draped itself over the alpine form progressing through the hills, tall grasses brushing ‘er pillars. Coal viperess sauntered through the fading twilight. Raven tresses whispering about ‘er arc, spurs of ebon pace silently through the unyielding terrain. Chasms ‘o cerulean flickering around the surroundings, watching for the mark of life. There were none upon this mountainous land - th' land sh’ so chose to wander, its sloping sides profoundly feared by the equine that passed through. 'er cranium lifted high 'pon 'er elegantly arched boa, nares dilating as to catch th' scent 'o any unwelcome intruder 'pon th’ loam. Th' surroundings were silent, th' only scent in th' air was th' stench 'o rotting matter. No other encroached 'pon 'er space. Pistons o’ brawn ceased their progression, keen gaze observing the firma. Deep from within the demoness rang a strident bellow, a warning to all who might even consider disturbing ‘er peace. Call lingered on frigid air for what seemed like an eternity, no echo in response given. The hellion began to pace the hills and flats, stepping nimbly o’er th’ rocks and various other obstacles as sh’ awaited any possible response. Azure globes retreated from staring into the night and the harlot lowered and extended ‘er zenith hellwards. Raising it the charcoal one reverted to ‘er previous vigil before stepping forth in’t th’ darkness, seeking a place ‘o peace deeper within this terrain.
Pillars carried ‘er forth in’t a silent glebe, soundless th’ area was, as still and quiet as death. The air ‘o th’ silent glebe was suddenly broken by th’ whistling tune of a cricket, or the buzz of an insect traveling near her ears. Vastly decorated with lush grass, each blade moon washed by the full globe illuminating the eerie nights features. And as if no such moon existed, a shadow plagued her form. A foreleg was outstretched, her pelt clinging as if there were no release to each rippling muscle bulging forth from ‘neath ‘er pelt, separated by scars where no charcoal fur grew. The transfixing silence of the night was broken by the unmistakable thud of a hoof, the grass quivering and folding under the massive weight; massive at least, for such an elegant and petite frame. And as if on que to this sound the clouds consumed the globe in the sky, devouring what light it provided. A cricket sang, but stopped as yet another flint pounded against the soft soil. The meadow was protected by a tin trunked forest, misty and transfixing to untrained eyes. A mucked pond lay home to three fish and a fat frog, who was silently watching this danger from the shelter of horsetail weeds. With each breeze the leaves and grass quivered; the night seemed shook by this beast's occupation in what could have been a peaceful glebe.
This was her time. A place with little or no distraction, a place of thought and solitude. As much as the demoness would enjoy bringing hell to life, this was a time of reflection. Slowly, her legs folded, and with some difficulty the mare lay in the grass while staring bitterly forward. Each well shaped dagger crushed the grass beneath it, and her pelt streached tightly over 'er sinewy muscles, accoustics sewn against her delicate cranium as th' mare shut 'er cold cerulean visionaries in thought.
Oh, one can spend their whole lives wondering, and what good would it do? There is no end, and can never be an end, to everything to puzzle over. For almost anything you can wonder about, there is no answer. And so what is the point to wondering, to thinking, to dreaming? There is none, but does that stop anyone? Not in the least. Wondering, and never knowing, is that not agonizing? Yes, but does it stop anyone, anything? No. And here I'm proof, wondering about wondering. I hate this. I prefer this to making useless statement to countless others, but I hate having no answers. Will I ever know the answers? Will I ever know what my true purpose in these lands is? Will I ever be sure?
Wondering and thinking were like sleeping - she wanted to stay awake so badly sometimes when she was younger, to explore the night, but her body did not have the same idea. It preferred to cease much of its movement and ship her mind off to dreamland to be chased my cougar and to side with wolves and wake up seconds before she wiped out every light on the planet. It was that same with her mind - she wished she could shut don't that part of her that had questions; wished she could live simply by instinct - eat, sleep, do as told. . . or not. Why wouldn't someone else take over thinking and do all the telling? It would be nice to go even a single day without the endless struggle to remember why sh’ was here, to remind ‘erself sh’ had a purpose. Sometimes sh’ wanted so badly to end it all – to slip from the seemingly endless life ‘o following and obeying where sh’ saw fit – th’ life ‘o a mare. th' bright, yet emotionless pits that were 'er ooids snapped open once more as sh’ stared moodily at th’ earth, striking out at it wrathfully with a single dagger from 'er position on th' earth, and all the time thinking to ‘erself, fighting an ongoing battle within. Sh’ couldn’t help wondering if th' gods had a plan in store for ‘er – something that would stimulate ‘er twisted mind, or if sh’ was simply a piece ‘o property waiting to be claimed, as sh’ had been with so many others – only there to be used and then tossed aside like a broken toy. Sh’ had followed ‘er sharp equine instincts here from far away lands, though sh’ couldn’t help but find ‘erself wondering. . .}
[My Family]
{The one sworn to protect this soul was to be Eveningstar though he seems not to fulfill his duty does he? For none care for this creature of Hell. }
[My Love]
{This creature has fallen for Revenge, of which reasons are her own}
{Silhouettestar}
{She-cat}
[You've Known Me For]
{40 Moons}
[You Rate Me As]
{Clan Leader}
{SecretClan}
[Scarred With]
{Being like an eclipse on that seemingly perfect Spring day in which you were thought to be happy but the ranks of black depression overpower all moods. Windows like chocolate hazelnut which portray nothing but hatred for the rest of the world and every soul in it. Not to say this creature cant be a stealthy inhabitant. Pride of how fate played itself out could been seen in this she-cats movements, who would not be proud if they were to lead a clan, to accomplish their goals in what seemed only a short while. Who wouldnt walk with pride to every step, yet every step darkened with disdain}
[Feels]
{To not be a light dweller, and despite certain outward physical attributes of which could make her seem almost toofriendly. Not to worry she would never love again, her feelings of hatred seemingly overpowered all that of caring towards every other living creature upon this world of which she named Hell. Yes for this world was nothing but stupidity and compassion. Both of which were anything but a good thing for this feline. Who wouldnt hate the world and everything in it if not for her past. Nevertheless she gave no mind to it, lonliness suited her well and she need not anyone to help her. }
[My Life]
{How very nosy of one to ask of this creations history, for which she has none so important to put forth into this seemingly endless world. Not to worry though she had one, just as every other creature. To feel loved but only to be backstabbed, to survive on your own, to feel neglected, to be left for dead, to fend for themself. Some of the many situations which appeared in lives. One in particular being this creatures desolate life. So to show no passion, compassion or trust, is one to really blame such a troubled mind for its actions. For its actions of want, want to strike at the world and all that harmed this soul. Can one flame such a mind for wanting to take revenge upon their hurt? Guess thats to decide on ones own self, not for someone else.}
[Hear Me]
{The cloak of night draped itself over the alpine form progressing through the hills, tall grasses brushing ‘er pillars. Coal viperess sauntered through the fading twilight. Raven tresses whispering about ‘er arc, spurs of ebon pace silently through the unyielding terrain. Chasms ‘o cerulean flickering around the surroundings, watching for the mark of life. There were none upon this mountainous land - th' land sh’ so chose to wander, its sloping sides profoundly feared by the equine that passed through. 'er cranium lifted high 'pon 'er elegantly arched boa, nares dilating as to catch th' scent 'o any unwelcome intruder 'pon th’ loam. Th' surroundings were silent, th' only scent in th' air was th' stench 'o rotting matter. No other encroached 'pon 'er space. Pistons o’ brawn ceased their progression, keen gaze observing the firma. Deep from within the demoness rang a strident bellow, a warning to all who might even consider disturbing ‘er peace. Call lingered on frigid air for what seemed like an eternity, no echo in response given. The hellion began to pace the hills and flats, stepping nimbly o’er th’ rocks and various other obstacles as sh’ awaited any possible response. Azure globes retreated from staring into the night and the harlot lowered and extended ‘er zenith hellwards. Raising it the charcoal one reverted to ‘er previous vigil before stepping forth in’t th’ darkness, seeking a place ‘o peace deeper within this terrain.
Pillars carried ‘er forth in’t a silent glebe, soundless th’ area was, as still and quiet as death. The air ‘o th’ silent glebe was suddenly broken by th’ whistling tune of a cricket, or the buzz of an insect traveling near her ears. Vastly decorated with lush grass, each blade moon washed by the full globe illuminating the eerie nights features. And as if no such moon existed, a shadow plagued her form. A foreleg was outstretched, her pelt clinging as if there were no release to each rippling muscle bulging forth from ‘neath ‘er pelt, separated by scars where no charcoal fur grew. The transfixing silence of the night was broken by the unmistakable thud of a hoof, the grass quivering and folding under the massive weight; massive at least, for such an elegant and petite frame. And as if on que to this sound the clouds consumed the globe in the sky, devouring what light it provided. A cricket sang, but stopped as yet another flint pounded against the soft soil. The meadow was protected by a tin trunked forest, misty and transfixing to untrained eyes. A mucked pond lay home to three fish and a fat frog, who was silently watching this danger from the shelter of horsetail weeds. With each breeze the leaves and grass quivered; the night seemed shook by this beast's occupation in what could have been a peaceful glebe.
This was her time. A place with little or no distraction, a place of thought and solitude. As much as the demoness would enjoy bringing hell to life, this was a time of reflection. Slowly, her legs folded, and with some difficulty the mare lay in the grass while staring bitterly forward. Each well shaped dagger crushed the grass beneath it, and her pelt streached tightly over 'er sinewy muscles, accoustics sewn against her delicate cranium as th' mare shut 'er cold cerulean visionaries in thought.
Oh, one can spend their whole lives wondering, and what good would it do? There is no end, and can never be an end, to everything to puzzle over. For almost anything you can wonder about, there is no answer. And so what is the point to wondering, to thinking, to dreaming? There is none, but does that stop anyone? Not in the least. Wondering, and never knowing, is that not agonizing? Yes, but does it stop anyone, anything? No. And here I'm proof, wondering about wondering. I hate this. I prefer this to making useless statement to countless others, but I hate having no answers. Will I ever know the answers? Will I ever know what my true purpose in these lands is? Will I ever be sure?
Wondering and thinking were like sleeping - she wanted to stay awake so badly sometimes when she was younger, to explore the night, but her body did not have the same idea. It preferred to cease much of its movement and ship her mind off to dreamland to be chased my cougar and to side with wolves and wake up seconds before she wiped out every light on the planet. It was that same with her mind - she wished she could shut don't that part of her that had questions; wished she could live simply by instinct - eat, sleep, do as told. . . or not. Why wouldn't someone else take over thinking and do all the telling? It would be nice to go even a single day without the endless struggle to remember why sh’ was here, to remind ‘erself sh’ had a purpose. Sometimes sh’ wanted so badly to end it all – to slip from the seemingly endless life ‘o following and obeying where sh’ saw fit – th’ life ‘o a mare. th' bright, yet emotionless pits that were 'er ooids snapped open once more as sh’ stared moodily at th’ earth, striking out at it wrathfully with a single dagger from 'er position on th' earth, and all the time thinking to ‘erself, fighting an ongoing battle within. Sh’ couldn’t help wondering if th' gods had a plan in store for ‘er – something that would stimulate ‘er twisted mind, or if sh’ was simply a piece ‘o property waiting to be claimed, as sh’ had been with so many others – only there to be used and then tossed aside like a broken toy. Sh’ had followed ‘er sharp equine instincts here from far away lands, though sh’ couldn’t help but find ‘erself wondering. . .}
[My Family]
{The one sworn to protect this soul was to be Eveningstar though he seems not to fulfill his duty does he? For none care for this creature of Hell. }
[My Love]
{This creature has fallen for Revenge, of which reasons are her own}