LEVIATHAN
the warrior returns
Winter, lovely. Leviathan had seen enough of it over his life, what was another season of it to a grizzled warrior like him? He sighed, scuffing a hoof through the dead grass and kicking up a chunk of the white fluff, watching the snow fall back and wrinkling his nose a little. He preferred the heat of Solterra to this, but who was he to complain when it was his own damn fault for wandering off in to the lands of Ruris?
The titan shook his head, sending locks of black and white tumbling before moving forward, groaning as joints gently clicked and bones ached. He was due for a fight, wasn't he? It'd been far too long, and his bones were weary from lack of use in combat. He was getting stagnant and he hated it. It was rare for him to go too long without even so much as a spare, and the itch was under his skin, the need for brutality, the hit of bodies, of hooves, of teeth. The clash of warriors.
He missed the singing in his veins from it.
A sigh exhaled from his lips, and he flicked black tipped ears lazily, lifting his head with a grunt and shaking off snow that had accumulated on his nape once more, sending it scattering off down to the ground where it belonged. Winter was a dead time of the year in more ways than one. No one was around, it seemed, either. Probably holed up somewhere, huddling around fires for warmth. Pathetic.
The titan shook his head, sending locks of black and white tumbling before moving forward, groaning as joints gently clicked and bones ached. He was due for a fight, wasn't he? It'd been far too long, and his bones were weary from lack of use in combat. He was getting stagnant and he hated it. It was rare for him to go too long without even so much as a spare, and the itch was under his skin, the need for brutality, the hit of bodies, of hooves, of teeth. The clash of warriors.
He missed the singing in his veins from it.
A sigh exhaled from his lips, and he flicked black tipped ears lazily, lifting his head with a grunt and shaking off snow that had accumulated on his nape once more, sending it scattering off down to the ground where it belonged. Winter was a dead time of the year in more ways than one. No one was around, it seemed, either. Probably holed up somewhere, huddling around fires for warmth. Pathetic.
@ any! || gruuuuuump
