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Date Posted: 14:33:24 02/06/02 Wed
Author: †he Avenger
Subject: ·..arrival..·

And he is present. The toils of vines are cast from one's pelt, as he sheds the walls of his bivouac. His entrance, it is, so sudden, as thaumaturgy. A series of susurruses are liberated from vocals, yet animated labrums surpresse them slightly. His being is as an effulgence to the valley, sheding the tenebrous feeling of the wooded land. Keeper of the junta, which may relaxe beneath his aleart vigil. Lissom limbs churn in a predeterminded pace. Calls from in seriaim, flowing canorously from within. Yet, glory cannot be sustained without brute force. As this is nature, to survive, one must defy the Wilds. And live beneath it's cruel hand. And so he does. Though to his companions, he is gentle, to others. Rivals. He oppresses them pitylessly. Lust to destruct those whom come between him and what he deserves is evident. No emotion is shed while he gazes upon the mangled bodies of his opponents. No, no enmity is felt, as he does not detest these beings. Yet detests their interuption within his life.
Along with his sire's lust for power. And his dam's headstrong nature. He is the heir of knowlage, only possessed by those whom hath been raised in the Wild. For onyl wild equines know. . . which hills shall be effected by the warm Chinnoks in winter. Which aromas mean danger. And which should be approched. Tress is risen unto an arrogant position, pendulating spasmodically. Optic pools are cast o'er the lands, yet what is obtained by one's orbs does not arouse one's self grealty. Lobes pivot atop of mangled tresses, amplifing verbilizations from other beings. Tender membrane possed upon dial stands dialted, subject to the many perfumes which flow though the lands of Senac. The bronc's bulk is pulled from the shadows, unto full view. To proclaim one's presence fully to the subjects 'low.
. .the pharoh tis present. .

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