BATTLECRY

I've had my share of Falls

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A single word was the only motion o’ Battlecry’s dialogue. Be thankful that you even got that for most are dismissed with a flicker o’ the shadow depths. The connection of eye contact was given with the guarded, omniscient gaze. There seems to be no way of penetrating the high steep barriers that rectify themselves within this raven gladiator’s life. With a name given Battlecry’s focused one’s attention ‘pon the outer display of impatience and perhaps intolerance of this other inconsequential femme. Façade continued it play on of cop-like features, revealing naught a shard of emotions. Body language too delved in the stony cask of impartial ways. Conches, yet again, swiveled caudally at the mare's words continued their disruption of the atmospheric silence. An inward sigh to oneself surged through the inner cortex of this heightened chapel o’ darkness. The meanings surfaced into Battlecry's proximal portion brain, relaying itself to the main stem of cognitive matter. Annoyance first surmised to him, before dispersing into that cold oblivion that Battle dwelled in. Instead voids painted themselves ‘pon this bold addressing that was given to Battlecry. That gaze was weighing and a cold calculation o’ thee. Eventually Battlecry's words were announced over thinning lines of obsidian flesh.

~Hopeful Valley~
Battlecry followed the movement of the pallor mare. He lasped back into silence quietly noting her unease. His baleful gaze sharpened at her sizing insistency. What is it that you will see? For a moment another's scent drafted into his flaring nares. The scent of one that was so fimiliar and dear to his heart. Or of some means of a heart. The slight tension of his rippling mass was the only indicator that his attention wavered.