Post by Samira on Jan 20, 2010 22:39:19 GMT -5
The moonlight glistened on the long black hair that waved around the slim form that loped among the trees. Prey - she sought prey. Unnaturally coloured eyes gleamed red in the night, icy cold, pale skin ghostly under the night-sky. Full red lips parted to show gleaming sharp teeth, and she inhaled slowly through her mouth, searching for the scent of blood - fresh, living, pulsing blood. And perhaps an interesting, intelligent sort of prey. Perhaps human today...
The sharp shadow of a bat passed fleetingly over the silver disk of the moon. The sound of an owl's haunting call sounded off to her left, and she could almost hear the scurrying of tiny mice as they fled the predator. Trees bent in the light wind, their leaves rustling together with whispers like ghosts telling secrets under the midnight sky. She wondered briefly if trees had souls. It was an odd thought; she often had strange thoughts that seemed out of place with her cold, bloodthirsty nature. She wasn't really a killing machine - not really; truly, she simply enjoyed watching pain, enjoyed the deep, rich, thick blood swirling in her mouth. She craved it, drank it like a draught of life. Which it was, really, if one gave it much thought. The life she stole from others, taking their pulsing red life's blood to further her own dark life. That was why she had been politely asked to remove her dangerous self from the warmongers' barracks. They wouldn't go so far as to ask her to leave the guild entirely - they, even those powerful ones, feared the revenge of one such as she was. Most of her kind - the vampire kind - lived as rogues. They were dangerous to a guild and usually preferred a secretive life anyway; but hers was an uncommon situation.
A smile lifted her lips and her unnatural eyes seemed to glow a shade darker in the night. Her nostrils flared slightly as the scent of warm life reached her, wild and tantilizing. It wasn't a human; that much was clear at once. In fact, it wasn't likely anything intelligent. A deer, perhaps, from the scent of it. But if it was a deer it would be fleet and graceful and she would feel the adrenaline pumping in her temples as she chased it through the woods before spilling its sweet, sweet blood under the midnight moon.
Almost of their own volition, her feet moved faster, propelling her at a silent run beneath the trees. The scent was stronger. Fleetingly, as the shadows crossed her, a change happened. If one had been watching, a blink of the eye would have been enough to persuade that it was a trick of the light, a trick of the tree shades. For a moment - just a moment - the slender woman was a wolf, enormous, sleek, deadly - but only for a moment. The usual fire and rush filled her veins as her form flickered. She ran faster. Blood tonight; sweet, luscious blood flowing warm out of the dying creature as the frail heart fluttered to a stop. She licked her lips.
The sharp shadow of a bat passed fleetingly over the silver disk of the moon. The sound of an owl's haunting call sounded off to her left, and she could almost hear the scurrying of tiny mice as they fled the predator. Trees bent in the light wind, their leaves rustling together with whispers like ghosts telling secrets under the midnight sky. She wondered briefly if trees had souls. It was an odd thought; she often had strange thoughts that seemed out of place with her cold, bloodthirsty nature. She wasn't really a killing machine - not really; truly, she simply enjoyed watching pain, enjoyed the deep, rich, thick blood swirling in her mouth. She craved it, drank it like a draught of life. Which it was, really, if one gave it much thought. The life she stole from others, taking their pulsing red life's blood to further her own dark life. That was why she had been politely asked to remove her dangerous self from the warmongers' barracks. They wouldn't go so far as to ask her to leave the guild entirely - they, even those powerful ones, feared the revenge of one such as she was. Most of her kind - the vampire kind - lived as rogues. They were dangerous to a guild and usually preferred a secretive life anyway; but hers was an uncommon situation.
A smile lifted her lips and her unnatural eyes seemed to glow a shade darker in the night. Her nostrils flared slightly as the scent of warm life reached her, wild and tantilizing. It wasn't a human; that much was clear at once. In fact, it wasn't likely anything intelligent. A deer, perhaps, from the scent of it. But if it was a deer it would be fleet and graceful and she would feel the adrenaline pumping in her temples as she chased it through the woods before spilling its sweet, sweet blood under the midnight moon.
Almost of their own volition, her feet moved faster, propelling her at a silent run beneath the trees. The scent was stronger. Fleetingly, as the shadows crossed her, a change happened. If one had been watching, a blink of the eye would have been enough to persuade that it was a trick of the light, a trick of the tree shades. For a moment - just a moment - the slender woman was a wolf, enormous, sleek, deadly - but only for a moment. The usual fire and rush filled her veins as her form flickered. She ran faster. Blood tonight; sweet, luscious blood flowing warm out of the dying creature as the frail heart fluttered to a stop. She licked her lips.
