.:Couldn't get worse:.

[•Purple Dust•]

Zyshyrik lay on the side of the steep hill just as the sun began to set. Night was falling and the last rays of sun briefly licked upon her ears. She got up with a grunt and padded in a random direction looking for a shelter. Her pads were torn from the unusual terrain and sand and Rock bunched up in the crevasses of her wounds. It ached but she trudged on wearily, she soon came to a tree in which two rocks were meticulously leaned against one another . she laid herself in between the two rocks, the cool slate of rocky terrain felt smooth against her achy body. she almost instantly dozed off.
Suddenly, something flickered at the corner of her eye. She dare not move a muscle. her orbs caught a glance at what it was, a young zebra grazing with it's mother, there were others near by, the single tree was their shelter, and the bits of weeds growing from between the rock was their supply of dinner. Shirk got up slowly and waited until every zebra was comfortable with its surroundings. She lept up and with great force pounced upon the young zebra. It's legs collapsed under the intense weight and its life ended quickly and cleanly. She started to gorge on the nimble little thing.

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Mhmm... <3 I'll join in, if ya dun mind. But I can't decide with who. o.o Umm... Would you rather Calamity or Because? =D

[•Purple Dust•]

i don't care whoever you thing would work with Zyshyrik best. I read both their descriptions and they can both make a good rollplay lol

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B E C A U S E[/font] y_ou ^si_ll^y o_ld m^an
“Some say the world will end in fire!” He called out now in such a rumbling voice. The depth of his vocals explored as he spoke with such fervor and such passion. Smiling, milgly, as he looked upon his audience (a young thing that had escaped his mother - no doubt) he gave a wink to the missus not too far from her lad’s seat before allowing his… most ‘captivating’ voice to continue forth, spouting the string of words in ways to… entertain, and catch interest, “Some… some say in ice.” From loud to quiet his voice was but a whisper now, leaning in towards the lad he allowed his teeth to click on the most murderous word ‘ice’. “But, alas! From what I have tasted of… desire.” Here he straightened, pulling back and standing at his full length he went a pace before shaking his head in the most hopeless of manners. A disheartened man, he seemed, words reflecting his exaggerated tone and expression, “I hold with those who favor fire.” His brows knitted so, as he pondered the idea for a moment more before his eyes went downcast and he so soberly lowered his head. Broken, it seemed, of his once fervent spirit, “But if it had to perish twice…” He had ended up walking a distance from his audience but here, with such lengthy strides and such strong grace did he come back to his beloved listeners, coming closer with a more… earnest look. The way his face shown, he was begging for the most attentive of ears to be listening, closely, to what he had to say. For what he had to say, this, was vital, “I think I know enough of hate…” Agony seemed to be pricked on the word of ‘hate’, an emotion he could depict so well, “To know that for destruction ice,” he sat down, finally. His rump hitting the hard, cold rock as he offered a nod, looking off into the distance before his gaze traveled back. A mild smile coming onto his features as he saw the boy on the edge of his seat, wondering what would be next to tumble from the old man’s lips, “Is also great,” He paused again, his smile broadening as he looked benevolently onto the young one, before his eyes flickered back yonder to the youth’s maid, “And would suffice.” He concluded and the boy perked up. Puzzled for a moment before nodding his head, bobbling it like a toy figure with a large grin making use of those new teeth. Playfully batting the lad he chuckled, nearly certain the little sir didn’t quite understand the poem past the literal meaning of the words, but… the tired, worn, and though weathered, beautiful, look of his dame proved that the… poem wasn’t quite void of its meaning. Knowing eyes told him, the slight smile spoke to him. He stayed with this duo, mother and son, for a time. But ultimately as he neared the summit of Kipia they parted ways in good cheer and good laughter. Departure made with smiles and hopes of fate letting them meet again. And he wouldn’t mind that in the slightest - a sweet dear was the missy, a good boy was the lad and… good sorts were the ones a person looked forward to seeing again. And he wouldn’t mind that in the slightest - a sweet dear was the missy, a good boy was the lad and… good sorts were the ones a person looked forward to seeing again. But hoping had little to do with fate. Miss Destiny did what she cared and… kindness was not something that she was known for bestowing. But… who knows? Mhmm… who knows…

Because, dear Because, arrived on the scene with a raise of the brow. Watching a madam hog down a foal was… a wonderful sight to behold. Only went on to prove that women were no doubt the greater sex - capable of feeding and providing for themselves he knew how much a lout he was. Since Kishkir’s absence he hadn’t been fairing particularly well in the ‘eating’ department (matter of fact the King seemed a bit more trim since last we saw him with a full pride about) but… Ah, what could one say? Boar was a tasty delight. Demonic as hell and dangerous as the Devil but… After a while on gets sort of fond of them, don’t they! Getting the tusks in the legs and place-men-hate-sharp-things-getting-to, fantastic and then the little squeals and oink oinks! Those were what he lived for, sometimes he imagined, while on his own that the ‘oink oink’ was saying a ‘I love you’ or ‘Come and get me papa’ or some other cutsie little thing… “Good dinin’ around here, mhmm?” He asked the Delight that ate her fill so quickly. A pleasant expression on his features as he took a seat a respectable distance away. He had been told flat out times before people weren’t scared of him. That he wasn’t scary or threatening and all the rest but, alas, he didn’t take that in offense. Nosir, but, still, with strangers it was wise to be a bit more mindful and respectful. Though everyone else knew you were harmless some might not have gotten the memo and it wouldn’t do to be an obnoxious creep, would it? Nosir!

OUT OF JUICE: A bit skimpy, sorrie. ANDDDDDD Causey's first spout - Fire and Ice by Robert Lee Frost. Lovely poem. <3

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[•Purple Dust•]

The climate was still hot but as the night trudged on the air got cooler and she swore she felt a single drop of rain seep into her golden pelt. Which she assumed was odd in this area. She licked her maw and snout of any blood that strayed from her black lips and sank her ferocious jaws into the meat with a ghastly strength. Blood slid from the dead flesh into her mouth and filled it with a delightful taste. Only half way through the belly she almost came to a realization that she was no longer hungry as she had been. She thought she had seen a flicker of something in the corner of her eye, she swore it had been the golden pelt of a lion but after a short decision she had dismissed it as a lone zebra or gazelle. with the movement placed into the back of her mind she started again on the meal. She licked her chops and gave herself another minute until she started to gorge herself with the meat. It may have been a young zebra but honestly it was a meal she could almost not finish. As she started to press her fangs into the flesh yet again awaiting the burst of flavor to enter her jowls but a soothing yet strong and iron hard voice interrupted from behind her. She flinched unexpectedly, the voice seemed to emit from nowhere. She jumped and turned she had an expressionless face, and if anything she looked a tad bored with the idea. She saw his masculine but old appearance and her muscles released a bit of tension. Though he did look like a mighty lion who once could have battled off a thousand lions single handedly just for ownership of a small portion of his Terra, well that was the thing, he could have but what about now. He had been a bit awkwardly strait forward, and...strait forward. She looked at him then down at the meat. She ripped off a small fraction of the torso then backed off about 30 paces laid down and started to chew. She rested her head on her paws, her claws ready to be unleashed at any second (like usual) and she waited to see what this lion was going to do. But still she refused to utter a word. And even when she tried to hum just to see what would happen her throat scratched and was soar.

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Rain, rain come this way… He could nearly hear the children singing, yes sir! How they did frolic and play when the rains finally came - relieved and happy and excited, too. The rains spelled good things for many people. Good hunting, good water, goodness. And goodness was something many people looked forward to and relished, nuh? Mhmm… still as much as the idea of rain and the wet season grabbed at his attention the missy he had spoken to was a more interesting affair. Tilting his head slightly at her reaction to him (did he scare her? Poor thing it wasn’t what he had meant. Nah, but his mistake all the same. He figured with such evident scent and with his concentration not planted on secrecy and stealth that he would have easily been heard coming…) he couldn’t help but be somewhat putout. What was with this generation these days? He seemed to wonder with a slight apprehension the tempering of so many others. Recalling a time when friendliness was something so common, he wondered how it had become so rare but did little more then sigh at the fact. He knew he was being… mhmm… something or another, whatever it was called. One couldn’t be ‘friendly with strangers’ because, well, bad folks these days he supposed. Killers, murderers, abusers all the rest disguising themselves as something more… easily accepted… But, still, was it bad for him to long for times hence? Times when he could chat and have a decent conversation without all of the distrust and wariness? Yes, yes it would be a different matter if he was loaded and packing but, we assure you, that Because did not carry a 22. MM in his back pocket, nor did he have a shotgun crammed under his armpit. He was not a violent man, no, not that much, not any longer. Perhaps that was another reason he was so… this and that over being treated so? He meant no harm, none at all, was it wrong for a bloke to go about lonely? Looking for company? Ah, but no need for him to get his yarn in a wad. No need to get all offensive, hostile, bitter, or any other negative word with negative meaning that could be thought up and tacked on. Nah, no need for that.

In his youth he was strong. Yes, yes, no doubt about that and no way around it. And these days he had peoples doubt, no doubt about that either. But his land had yet been challenged nor had he. Did that count for nothing? His nonabrasive attitude ruled. His subtle was supreme. And he was doing decent, if decent was all he was doing. The Yaizux were not strong, not as they had been but they were still alive. If but by a thread. If but by only his living. But if only by him, so be it. The Yaizux will live only Because. That suited him fine. Mighty fine. That was what he said, but what did he mean? Did he mean it? That he was fine with the idea of being alone, all on his own? Ha… “Pleasant darling, aren’t you? Real talkative, I see.” He mused quietly, a raise of the brow as he watched her stunt, shaking his head only mildly he breathed but a sigh before sitting himself down. Not nearing the kill, no. Stubborn pride and manners kept him put. He would not have her think that he came only to steal her meal. He would not have her think he had come to steal her meal, period. He was hungry but flesh was not what he was starved of. Someone’s voice, other then his own, was what he longed for. Why would she not speak with him? Lions were social by nature, was she the one who rain so fierce against that grain? Perhaps, but he did not like his gloomy thoughts and where they were taking him. So he forsook them with a shake of his head, his body lowering again. From a stand, to a sit, to a lay now. He watched the territory. Examining the fall before, looking about the mountain so savagely beautiful - so feral. His eyes only wandering to her now and again, now and again, never staring, for staring was rude… and not just when someone was eating. “Do you ever wonder what’s inside a mountain?” He asked after a moment. A sudden question, and a foolish one mayhap but… perhaps… perhaps…