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the things we lost; kristos claims
Topic Started: Apr 5 2015, 12:05 PM (173 Views)
devotchka
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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K R I S T O S
' i was the match and you were the rock, maybe we started this fire '
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THE arid air that sweeps across the Marredland, to him, is home. He is designed to live here. His family, for generations, has populated the rocky surface of this desolate continent, and Kristos is not prepared to let that change. He is not in the Faults where he grew up, the land that was promised to him as Ares’ final heir, but he had plenty of time to do that. In his short years the pale coloured stallion has seen his sire fall from one of the biggest and most successful legacies of all time, and he is prepared to learn from those deadly mistakes that eventually drove the old stallion mad. Kristos will not let himself into such a state of decay, physically or mentally.

HE has chosen Lute’s Vineyard, not because he or his family have any particular ties to the place, but it amuses him how somewhere so lush and fertile can exist on a continent notorious for corruption and destruction. However, it seems pretty empty, and he sort of likes the feeling of grass under his hooves for a change, instead of twisted, dried rock. It would be a good place for mares too – although the Faults offered infamy in it’s very name, the land itself was barren and at times impossible to live in. At least here, with it’s food and water, and the warmth that the Marredland is riddled with, it would be a lot easier to survive. The dun stallion moves through the Vineyard, his dark eyes keenly watching the horizon, his senses taking in the feel of the place.

HIS hoof finds something soft, and as the stallion glances down a fruit squashes under his weight. It is one of the fruits from the many vines that grow here, and as he lifts his front leg up once more, the sticky entrails cling to his foot underneath. The stallion snorts in amusement, sliding himself back and scraping off the fodder in the process before he lowers his head. The fruit smells sweet, and as the tawny hued stallion snuffles around it in the dirt, it also tastes sweet too. The tang in his mouth makes him smack his lips together several times, but overall, it is not an unpleasant feeling. With a deep chuckle, Kristos whisks his tail as he steps over the squashed fruit and further into the land. This would do very nicely for the grand plans he had set out in his ambitious head.


' we sat apart and watched, all we had burned on the pyre '
x x

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in these cages we call walls ~
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