Writing... for the sake of Writing... -- The Middle of Nowhere

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Date Posted: 13:49:59 01/19/04 Mon
Author: I'm not sure yet, whomever wishes to come...
Subject: Writing... for the sake of Writing...

The mother of all Morollas was calm, her eyes of light and dark both void of any revealing emotion, dull, lightless, and yet... at the same time... quite aware of all that was going on. The tattered ear flicked once, and the ebony head moved to the left, revealing the lone saber-fang in its stead. The eyelids closed, moonlight gleaming solely off of the ivory dagger as the female inhaled deeply.

And then the eyes were open and alive again, the ice of power combining with the steady knowing gaze of earth to hold firm the fears and premonitions of the beast before her. The tail blade moved, unquivering in its glide to rest just below the jaws of the beast before her, the jagged edge of death playing easily about the creature's windpipe, moving just below the bulge of the throat as it rose and fell.

The left hand rose, the long-claw curving with delicate strokes about the bulging eyes that watched it. It stopped just between them, pushed against the flesh, then retracted just as swiftly as the small trickle of blood began to fall down the beast's muzzle.

With the utmost of care, the Morolla licked the small drop from her clawtip, and lowered her paw back to the ground, eyes un-moved from their position.

Remind me... What exactly is it that you do?

The beast's jaw quivered, but his chin touched the cold unforgiving steel that lay below, and swiftly he controlled his shaking to the best of his ability.

"I... assist in the end of life."

In the next second, the creature's skull was slammed against the cold steel of the wall behind him, a stream of russet flowing from his nose, and a dry cough racking from his throttled throat. The Morolla's fist shoved painfully against his wind-pipe, the blunt of her tail-blade pummeling the beast directly under its ribs.

"WHAT DO YOU DO?"

"I... chhkkkk... kill people..."

The oerri snarled, her fist clenching tighter against the vital passage of air, holding the beast against the wall. The blade rose, and the point pressed painfully against the male's cut, as the power of the roar settled into her eyes and the words that came next were no more then a low hiss of hatred.

"What... do... you... do..."

"I MURDER!!!"

And you die.

The Morolla's tail-blade arches upwards and across the crushed jugular, sending the body slumping to the earth, blood slickening the dark ground.

Skjota'Dyro eyes the head within her paw for a moment, and spits upon it in distaste. Then arching back upon her hind legs, she throws the mind as far from the body as possible, watching the ugly head of Intolerance dissapear from view.

The Morolla falls back to all fours, and as the eyes dim... she runs...

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