Post by Chloe on Oct 6, 2008 18:45:21 GMT -5
Rowenne, or Enne as some called her walked across the vast valley, stoic green eyes set in the fair face across a narrow nose. Yes, she was beautiful, but a beautiful mage. This creature of magic knew how to fight and defend; she is not a weak village girl, delicate to the touch. Rowenne was a wandering mage of the natural magics. And she was lonely.
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Razor had been bored the day the girl came. He had sat around in his stupid, as he called it, cave for too long. It had stormed all that week, and he did not want to go out in the thunder and lightning, that was sometimes found to be magickal and highly dangerous. The rain had finally stopped this morning, though the grass and trees dripped from head to toe in the liquid. He was finally able to stretch his wings and feel the freeness of the air. But as he soared through the sky he had a strange feeling that he should look down. So, Razor flicked his eyes to the ground and was surprised to see a young girl walking through the valley. Razor has not seen people in Avnea yet. To tell the truth, he had not seen anyone in Avnea yet. He remembered wondering why there was no one around, but now he realized that he was wrong to think that. There were others here. Well, at least one other. Razor did not land on the ground, though he did not fear this mysterious girl, but decided that it was best to stay airborne. So he circled lowly, making sure that she could get a clear view of him, and know that he had seen her. He continued to circle for a while longer, until he was positive that he had been seen.
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Deep green eyes fell upon the circling dragon, pale face twitching into a slight smile. So there were others in this land, a nice thing indeed. Time to show them what she was, most indefinitely.
Within seconds a second dragon was soaring up to the first with ease, green wings carrying the slender emerald body without difficulty. Once level the identity became clear for the mages eyes were the same, recognizable anywhere, anytime. A cool voice sut the air currents as she glided smoothly in circles. "Hello dragon, I am Rowenne, a wandering mage."
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Razor may have been surprised when the girl turned herself into a dragon and came up to him. He may not have just as easily, but if he did, he did not show even the smallest sign of it. Razor, never being a talker, only replied "Ah, a mage." Razor would rather her have been nothing but a girl, lost in the area, but if she had to be a mage, then so be it. That was the way Razor thought. He always had, he always would. Razor did not enjoy being equally powered, which he guessed that he was, with another. But there were many others that Razor knew of that were stronger then him, like the great dragons who could easily eat Razor if they caught him, so he did not complain, even to himself. Finally after a few moments he asked "What are you here for?" Razor asked that question many times before, as the answer showed whether or not he could trust her, even though it did not always. Razor would not speak his name until he knew whether or not she was friend or foe. He flew back a bit, to make sure that there was a reasonable amount of space between them, and waited for her answer.
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She shrugged in the air, lightweight wings whirring. "Just . . . wandering, I have no real answer to a question such as that." Pearly fangs glinted in a smile as she spiraled to the ground, landing gracefully in her elf-like human form. Her true form. She raised her hand, causing a cloud to move along, giving her some shade; a small insignificant purple ring glittering on the slender finger as she coaxed it along.
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Razor shook his head in answer. He was not, not agreeing with her, and he wasn't really shaking his head either. It was much more of a shudder, but he had no reason to shudder. "Ah" He replied. Her answer told him nothing. He did not know if he could trust her, and did not wish to tell her his name yet. Not just yet. Razor flew down to the ground, a good bit from Rowenne, and landed gracefully, and waited for her to say something. Anything at all, for he had nothing to to say...
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"So . . ." She started, trailing off, "I'm a weather and shapeshifting mage, from a forest rather far from here . . ." Her blue markings gave her an even more elvish look, dark clothing was that of a mage, staff was of iron. "In closer relation to why I'm here, for the time I'm seeking solitude, and no one has really come here yet . . ."
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There seemed to be a pair of amber eyes looking at them from the bushes but nothing else. Then a wolf appeared, the owner of the eyes. He looked over everyone, smiling. He didn't appear to be a threat, instead he bowed politely and spoke up in a clear and humble voice.
"Um...could you guys help me? I think I'm lost..."
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Rowenne lifted an eyebrow, "Yes . . . this is Rosethorn Valley . . ." Deep eyes summed him up, amethyst ring glittered in the sunlight, causing her to turn it three quarters into shadow. Maybe it wasn't so worthless?
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Razor thought about all that Rowenne said, and still was not sure of her, yet he always thought it was better to be safe then sorry. When the wolf came, Razor may have been surprised that there were more creatures then he thought in this land, yet he once again did not show it if he was. The wolf did not seem a threat, and even seemed polite. Razor nodded at him in response. Then as the wolf said that he was lost Razor replied "Where do you seek to be? I have lived here long and may be able to show you." He hoped that he was being helpful, for the wolf seemed to not know where he was.
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Rowenne stepped back, allowing them to converse in private if need be, she wouldn't want to be a nuisance although that just happened some times, the worse parts of being a mage, sometimes they were the problems of being a female mage which was incredibly annoying and usually left some young man crippled.
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Razor waited quietly for the wolf's answer. He did not think of the mage that stood near him, but always made sure that he knew where she was. He would not let his downfall be a silly mistake, yet again, she may not be dangerous at all, but Razor always had to be sure before he let someone go like that. He wondered what the wolf's name was, but he did not ask considering that he never told his name to anyone but the ones he trusted.
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"Um....I was aiming for some pack, or tribe, to be claimed by." He swished his bushy, grey tail side to side in a friendly wag, somewhat puppyish. "Do you two know of anyplace that might be?" Amber orbs looked them over, just to assure the brujo they were not dangerous. From the sounds of it...they seemed kind enough.
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Razor watched the new wolf, and when it had answered his question, he replied "There are no tribes. No packs. There are cities, but most belong to human, elf, or evil." He watched them both, his eyes shining in the mid-day light. He wondered where the wolf had come from. Why it was here. He often asked himself questions. He did not often ask others them though.
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"Well . . . I shall be going." The elf-human mage commented motionlessly, mist obscuring her from the eyes of others for a split second before a faerie stood before them, green eyes large in the enchanting face. Butterfly wings opened and bore the magical creature away with all speed, flying low.
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The wolf blinked for a moment. Then he turned to Razor. "Is that so?" he asked. "Then...could you be so kind as to direct me to the nearest cities then?" He looked round for a moment, licked his lips, then turned back to Razor, kindly and patiently awaiting an answer.
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Razor thought for a moment. "Yes. I believe I could." He thought about which city, and immediately discarded the human and elf cities. A wolf would not be welcome there as much as a dragon would. Then Viniltro came to mind. Anyone was aloud there. "I could take you to Viniltro. Or I could just direct you. Which do you prefer?" The dragon waited silently for a few moments wondering when the mage would have gone off to. Wondered when she belonged...
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"Just direct me, I think I can find my way by myself." He wagged his tail, happy that he'd received such generous help. Usually one would not help a wolf as him, but he wasn't like those who'd only hurt others. "So, what is the way to Viniltro, kind sir?"
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"So be it." Razor replied to the kind wolf. He had started to take a liking to the creature, and was happy to direct him where he wanted to be. "To get to the city, I suggest that you take the path to your right there." He pointed one of his claws at it. "Then follow it for..." He thought for a moment then said. "Maybe half a day. I'm not sure though. I've never walked there. Only flown you know. Now keep in mind that there are all sorts of creatures there, and that some of them may be better to be left alone. It can get dangerous there, but not too often."
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Spiteful gaze flickered over the dragon and wolfish companion, worthless creatures. Cruel, torturing thoughts flew through her twisted mind, feelings of fear, betrayal, darkness, evil, danger, terror, torture, and ruthlessness tearing through the beautifully exotic shell.
Twitching convulsively, monstrous golden-hued wings shifted pon her broad back, boa arched to hold the dainty dial whilst ped lay folded neath her thin, well-groomed bod. Something must die.
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Razor's eyes flick toward the creature, and he immediately revolted in terror. A horrible creature stood before him. And Razor being Razor could feel the evil within the creature. This that he took flight, suddenly forgetting the wolf that he has met. He wanted to stay his distance from the creature. He knew that being near her could not do him any good. But as he started to fly off, he remembered the wolf. And so he turned about and circled the area repeatedly, wondering just what to do next.
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The brute hadn't seemed to notice, as he had taken off in the direction the kind dragon had taken him. He had traveled quite a distance before he'd forgotten to tell him "Thanks". This made him feel guilty inside. But he traveled onwards, telling himself he'd tell him that once he saw him again...
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Huge, feathered wings tore open; sending mammoth gusts of gritty wind smashing through the trees and lush grasses, destroying the petite little snowdrops with the slicing, powerful winds. Running forward the demoness bore lon, pearly ivornes at the wolf, cruel gaze riveting in the middle of the beautiful, unnaturally radiant features. Long, slender appendages bore powerful amber talons, striped with lucid blackness which slid up the slender fore-piston, from there alabaster took over.
Grinning manically the huntress' blood lust took over, and she charged at the creature ruthlessly, daggers tearing into the sod with little or no mercy as she charged, auds flattened against dished skull, tassles whipping through the zephyr, nares jetting hot fumes as tresses slapped against the long, muscular boa.
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Razor saw the wolf going off in the other direction. And he saw the creature charge toward it. He would not be able to let the creature kill the wolf. He could not do that. His insides would never let him. He flew toward the wolf and the charging horse creature and shot out a bolt of electricity. He waited in terror to see if it hit it's mark. Hoping will all his might that the wolf would be okay. Make it from this creature alive. And if he himself would do the same.
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A shriek of anger and pain split the warm medium as the faessa reared, scorched cut stretching down the narrow shoulder, spilling a thin stream of sanguine liquid. Hissing and screaming more, she reared and brought svelte talons to the healthy litho, causing a low rumble to spread throughout the lands, rattling strongly in an intermediate earthquake.
Pearly, stainless ivornes bared in an angry, hellish cry of anger, pretty face contorted in the anger and pain she felt the demoness reared once more, visage lifting high into the medium, platinum lucid wings streaking dust and dirt in all directions as they opened and closed with gusty strength, sending huge air currents of buffeting power into the now cold, raging medium.
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Razor was amazed that he had actually hit the creature below him. He was also a bit happy as well, until she turned on him that is. When Razor saw her coming toward him, he immediately forgot the wolf again, but he didn't think that she would try to hurt it now that she was chasing him. Upon seeing her coming he almost cursed out load, then he turned in the air and beat him wings as fast as he could. He could hear his heart beating in his throat as he speed off as fast as he could. He had no idea whether she was near him or not, he was just so freaked out that he couldn't even look behind him to look. But he could feel her presence somewhere behind him. And he didn't like it.
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"I'll be back,
So don't forget
The curse befalling
It shall,
Just wait . . .
Just wait and see . . ."
Sparing one last precious moment to glare venomously after the young brujo dragon Tsara reared viciously, powerful wings carrying her straight into the cold, medium. Instantly flapping the huge wings, she let her prowess as a demoness be announced in a bloodcurdling shriek; tearing the tender cloth of the firmament as she tore across it, pace set by the mammoth wings of ebony ivory, hinted to platinum. Striped peds folded gracefully beneath 'er as th' sataness of war sped away into the distance, first and final harmonics hanging in the medium like the threat they were.
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Razor had been bored the day the girl came. He had sat around in his stupid, as he called it, cave for too long. It had stormed all that week, and he did not want to go out in the thunder and lightning, that was sometimes found to be magickal and highly dangerous. The rain had finally stopped this morning, though the grass and trees dripped from head to toe in the liquid. He was finally able to stretch his wings and feel the freeness of the air. But as he soared through the sky he had a strange feeling that he should look down. So, Razor flicked his eyes to the ground and was surprised to see a young girl walking through the valley. Razor has not seen people in Avnea yet. To tell the truth, he had not seen anyone in Avnea yet. He remembered wondering why there was no one around, but now he realized that he was wrong to think that. There were others here. Well, at least one other. Razor did not land on the ground, though he did not fear this mysterious girl, but decided that it was best to stay airborne. So he circled lowly, making sure that she could get a clear view of him, and know that he had seen her. He continued to circle for a while longer, until he was positive that he had been seen.
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Deep green eyes fell upon the circling dragon, pale face twitching into a slight smile. So there were others in this land, a nice thing indeed. Time to show them what she was, most indefinitely.
Within seconds a second dragon was soaring up to the first with ease, green wings carrying the slender emerald body without difficulty. Once level the identity became clear for the mages eyes were the same, recognizable anywhere, anytime. A cool voice sut the air currents as she glided smoothly in circles. "Hello dragon, I am Rowenne, a wandering mage."
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Razor may have been surprised when the girl turned herself into a dragon and came up to him. He may not have just as easily, but if he did, he did not show even the smallest sign of it. Razor, never being a talker, only replied "Ah, a mage." Razor would rather her have been nothing but a girl, lost in the area, but if she had to be a mage, then so be it. That was the way Razor thought. He always had, he always would. Razor did not enjoy being equally powered, which he guessed that he was, with another. But there were many others that Razor knew of that were stronger then him, like the great dragons who could easily eat Razor if they caught him, so he did not complain, even to himself. Finally after a few moments he asked "What are you here for?" Razor asked that question many times before, as the answer showed whether or not he could trust her, even though it did not always. Razor would not speak his name until he knew whether or not she was friend or foe. He flew back a bit, to make sure that there was a reasonable amount of space between them, and waited for her answer.
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She shrugged in the air, lightweight wings whirring. "Just . . . wandering, I have no real answer to a question such as that." Pearly fangs glinted in a smile as she spiraled to the ground, landing gracefully in her elf-like human form. Her true form. She raised her hand, causing a cloud to move along, giving her some shade; a small insignificant purple ring glittering on the slender finger as she coaxed it along.
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Razor shook his head in answer. He was not, not agreeing with her, and he wasn't really shaking his head either. It was much more of a shudder, but he had no reason to shudder. "Ah" He replied. Her answer told him nothing. He did not know if he could trust her, and did not wish to tell her his name yet. Not just yet. Razor flew down to the ground, a good bit from Rowenne, and landed gracefully, and waited for her to say something. Anything at all, for he had nothing to to say...
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"So . . ." She started, trailing off, "I'm a weather and shapeshifting mage, from a forest rather far from here . . ." Her blue markings gave her an even more elvish look, dark clothing was that of a mage, staff was of iron. "In closer relation to why I'm here, for the time I'm seeking solitude, and no one has really come here yet . . ."
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There seemed to be a pair of amber eyes looking at them from the bushes but nothing else. Then a wolf appeared, the owner of the eyes. He looked over everyone, smiling. He didn't appear to be a threat, instead he bowed politely and spoke up in a clear and humble voice.
"Um...could you guys help me? I think I'm lost..."
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Rowenne lifted an eyebrow, "Yes . . . this is Rosethorn Valley . . ." Deep eyes summed him up, amethyst ring glittered in the sunlight, causing her to turn it three quarters into shadow. Maybe it wasn't so worthless?
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Razor thought about all that Rowenne said, and still was not sure of her, yet he always thought it was better to be safe then sorry. When the wolf came, Razor may have been surprised that there were more creatures then he thought in this land, yet he once again did not show it if he was. The wolf did not seem a threat, and even seemed polite. Razor nodded at him in response. Then as the wolf said that he was lost Razor replied "Where do you seek to be? I have lived here long and may be able to show you." He hoped that he was being helpful, for the wolf seemed to not know where he was.
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Rowenne stepped back, allowing them to converse in private if need be, she wouldn't want to be a nuisance although that just happened some times, the worse parts of being a mage, sometimes they were the problems of being a female mage which was incredibly annoying and usually left some young man crippled.
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Razor waited quietly for the wolf's answer. He did not think of the mage that stood near him, but always made sure that he knew where she was. He would not let his downfall be a silly mistake, yet again, she may not be dangerous at all, but Razor always had to be sure before he let someone go like that. He wondered what the wolf's name was, but he did not ask considering that he never told his name to anyone but the ones he trusted.
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"Um....I was aiming for some pack, or tribe, to be claimed by." He swished his bushy, grey tail side to side in a friendly wag, somewhat puppyish. "Do you two know of anyplace that might be?" Amber orbs looked them over, just to assure the brujo they were not dangerous. From the sounds of it...they seemed kind enough.
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Razor watched the new wolf, and when it had answered his question, he replied "There are no tribes. No packs. There are cities, but most belong to human, elf, or evil." He watched them both, his eyes shining in the mid-day light. He wondered where the wolf had come from. Why it was here. He often asked himself questions. He did not often ask others them though.
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"Well . . . I shall be going." The elf-human mage commented motionlessly, mist obscuring her from the eyes of others for a split second before a faerie stood before them, green eyes large in the enchanting face. Butterfly wings opened and bore the magical creature away with all speed, flying low.
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The wolf blinked for a moment. Then he turned to Razor. "Is that so?" he asked. "Then...could you be so kind as to direct me to the nearest cities then?" He looked round for a moment, licked his lips, then turned back to Razor, kindly and patiently awaiting an answer.
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Razor thought for a moment. "Yes. I believe I could." He thought about which city, and immediately discarded the human and elf cities. A wolf would not be welcome there as much as a dragon would. Then Viniltro came to mind. Anyone was aloud there. "I could take you to Viniltro. Or I could just direct you. Which do you prefer?" The dragon waited silently for a few moments wondering when the mage would have gone off to. Wondered when she belonged...
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"Just direct me, I think I can find my way by myself." He wagged his tail, happy that he'd received such generous help. Usually one would not help a wolf as him, but he wasn't like those who'd only hurt others. "So, what is the way to Viniltro, kind sir?"
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"So be it." Razor replied to the kind wolf. He had started to take a liking to the creature, and was happy to direct him where he wanted to be. "To get to the city, I suggest that you take the path to your right there." He pointed one of his claws at it. "Then follow it for..." He thought for a moment then said. "Maybe half a day. I'm not sure though. I've never walked there. Only flown you know. Now keep in mind that there are all sorts of creatures there, and that some of them may be better to be left alone. It can get dangerous there, but not too often."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spiteful gaze flickered over the dragon and wolfish companion, worthless creatures. Cruel, torturing thoughts flew through her twisted mind, feelings of fear, betrayal, darkness, evil, danger, terror, torture, and ruthlessness tearing through the beautifully exotic shell.
Twitching convulsively, monstrous golden-hued wings shifted pon her broad back, boa arched to hold the dainty dial whilst ped lay folded neath her thin, well-groomed bod. Something must die.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Razor's eyes flick toward the creature, and he immediately revolted in terror. A horrible creature stood before him. And Razor being Razor could feel the evil within the creature. This that he took flight, suddenly forgetting the wolf that he has met. He wanted to stay his distance from the creature. He knew that being near her could not do him any good. But as he started to fly off, he remembered the wolf. And so he turned about and circled the area repeatedly, wondering just what to do next.
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The brute hadn't seemed to notice, as he had taken off in the direction the kind dragon had taken him. He had traveled quite a distance before he'd forgotten to tell him "Thanks". This made him feel guilty inside. But he traveled onwards, telling himself he'd tell him that once he saw him again...
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Huge, feathered wings tore open; sending mammoth gusts of gritty wind smashing through the trees and lush grasses, destroying the petite little snowdrops with the slicing, powerful winds. Running forward the demoness bore lon, pearly ivornes at the wolf, cruel gaze riveting in the middle of the beautiful, unnaturally radiant features. Long, slender appendages bore powerful amber talons, striped with lucid blackness which slid up the slender fore-piston, from there alabaster took over.
Grinning manically the huntress' blood lust took over, and she charged at the creature ruthlessly, daggers tearing into the sod with little or no mercy as she charged, auds flattened against dished skull, tassles whipping through the zephyr, nares jetting hot fumes as tresses slapped against the long, muscular boa.
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Razor saw the wolf going off in the other direction. And he saw the creature charge toward it. He would not be able to let the creature kill the wolf. He could not do that. His insides would never let him. He flew toward the wolf and the charging horse creature and shot out a bolt of electricity. He waited in terror to see if it hit it's mark. Hoping will all his might that the wolf would be okay. Make it from this creature alive. And if he himself would do the same.
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A shriek of anger and pain split the warm medium as the faessa reared, scorched cut stretching down the narrow shoulder, spilling a thin stream of sanguine liquid. Hissing and screaming more, she reared and brought svelte talons to the healthy litho, causing a low rumble to spread throughout the lands, rattling strongly in an intermediate earthquake.
Pearly, stainless ivornes bared in an angry, hellish cry of anger, pretty face contorted in the anger and pain she felt the demoness reared once more, visage lifting high into the medium, platinum lucid wings streaking dust and dirt in all directions as they opened and closed with gusty strength, sending huge air currents of buffeting power into the now cold, raging medium.
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Razor was amazed that he had actually hit the creature below him. He was also a bit happy as well, until she turned on him that is. When Razor saw her coming toward him, he immediately forgot the wolf again, but he didn't think that she would try to hurt it now that she was chasing him. Upon seeing her coming he almost cursed out load, then he turned in the air and beat him wings as fast as he could. He could hear his heart beating in his throat as he speed off as fast as he could. He had no idea whether she was near him or not, he was just so freaked out that he couldn't even look behind him to look. But he could feel her presence somewhere behind him. And he didn't like it.
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"I'll be back,
So don't forget
The curse befalling
It shall,
Just wait . . .
Just wait and see . . ."
Sparing one last precious moment to glare venomously after the young brujo dragon Tsara reared viciously, powerful wings carrying her straight into the cold, medium. Instantly flapping the huge wings, she let her prowess as a demoness be announced in a bloodcurdling shriek; tearing the tender cloth of the firmament as she tore across it, pace set by the mammoth wings of ebony ivory, hinted to platinum. Striped peds folded gracefully beneath 'er as th' sataness of war sped away into the distance, first and final harmonics hanging in the medium like the threat they were.