~!@#$%^&*()_+ -- The Peaks

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Date Posted: 17:34:09 10/20/02 Sun
Author: Kain-Lunimae
Subject: ~!@#$%^&*()_+

Silent sounds the requiem,
Midnight mist, Death's ordeal,
Fleeting dreams, grim nightmare's gem,
Being wrought of stone and steel,
Void of black, dark moon, high tide,
Scythe to heart at Reaper's gate,
On shadowstorms the dragons ride,
What is was once was, and that is fate.

An impossible grace is displayed softly as the entity cuts through the air, silent as the darkest, deepest death. Hued the same way, the dragon is, lusterless, ragged fur growing over jagged scales, all the exact same shade of nearblack. Deep, intelligent eyes, more shadowy gray-brown than bronze, scan the ground below. Yet truly, they peer not at the magnificent vista, but deep within the mind of the rider.

A tall woman, grim and deadly, and a killer at heart. The mercenary strokes the neck of her bondmate idly, gloved hands twining with the tattered fur. Scars slice along every visible surface, black as night. Her lone right eye, shaded steel, slit through the center with a gray pupil like a dreamgate. Blankly staring across the island that never truly was her home, Kain ponders deep and tranced, not even noticing when the gargantuan Lunimae perches high atop a peak.

Eohut. Auron. Bound by a fate that we broke. They should not have a likeness anymore. But they do...it's a great enigma, nothing more.

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~!@#$%^&*()_+ -- Kain-Lunimae, 18:39:20 10/22/02 Tue