BATTLECRY

I've had my share of Falls

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It was startling how quickly the landscape switches from one aspect to another. The once white realm which laid dormant has now awaken with flourish of colors. The first day was subdue and only insinuated of what was to come next. The first sign that the lady winter was being shunned was to the quiet nature of the daffodils peeking their blonde heads above the white. The usual weak sun was becoming more radiant driving away the cold fingers of the winter. Spring was on its away and Battlecry presided with his watchful eye.
He was a solid rock that divides the torrent waters before they reunite to continue forth on their path. A silent, brooding shadow that haunts the backgrounds of realms and memories of beings. Silent and mysterious were befitting characteristics that many mortals descript Battlecry as. The heightened anatomy was graced with a licorice pelt that had the eerie ability to meld into darkened vicinities. There were no distinct markings that bore themselves ‘pon the flawless pelt, that ripple over steel toned muscle and twanging sinew. There was one feature that many did naught possess but enthralled and memorized those that come across him. The feature was engulfed in eternal darkness which truly marked him as a being living in a chaotic world. But let us get to the things that are at hand.
His position was set amongst the usual lair o’ flickering shadows which set himself apart from the sparse herd. Enabling the ability to be heard and not to be seen. Today was a unique one for the hardened warrior as appendages slipped from the cave o’ dark to step into the blinding light o’ the golden goddess. Might I add that it would truly be a marvelous site to behold. The brilliant fingers o’ the enchanter converged ‘pon the raven portrait. He was now a gleaming beacon o’ dark and light, shattering the coat into a multi-lit specimen o’ diamonds set encased in coal. The gait o’ the walk was languid and confident, never faltering in four beat steps. The façade was stone cold neutral, giving one’s features to be more hawk-like and stately. Those endless pools which rape others o’ their souls roamed aimlessly o’er this particular swampy area. The setting o’ the land mattered little to us. Whether it was full o’ spectacular hills or lowland prairies, it would go noticed but expressions would naught delight within their sight. As the cold, bared knife vision continued its’ survey, two figures silhouetted against the backdrop of dazzling light. Blood tinted nares flared to inhale the unfimiliar scents before he was assaulted with a well known perfume of Moonlight. Visions snapped to the ebon femme that made her way to the strangers. Long, wind harden limbs stilled the heightend mass as he painted his endless pools upon the now trio.