Vivatiny

Stone roughened talons strike the dead leaves as she walked through the forest. She had come far from home. The mountan river beds and canyons is where she resided before. Before the wolves and even after the plauge. It was the head bitch that kicked her out. Vavatiny had been lead but the whore had whispered her words to Sakkin. She had twisted him. How can you twist some thing that twisted she didnt know.

Vavatiny had not so kindly steped down from her rule. Sakkin had just about killed her for it and left her for dead. How she survived she didn't know. The ugly scar he left still trailed from the botom of her soot colored ear to her blue eye then to her cheek. She had cought up to them once her strenght returned and killed the tratior, then just as casualy(sp) as they had left her, walked away.

Vivid blue pools scanned the terrain for any souce of water as she picked up a 2 beat pattern. The ash color of her bod stood vibrant againt the dark trees. Her stronge sense of smell picke up the fresh scent of liquid. the sound of rushing water reached her black tipped ears. A tri-beat pattern followed this as parched lips thirsted for water. she soon came to the rapids she plundged her muzzel deep in the water.

The dark god wandered through the terrain, his souless pools watching all around him. Occassionally a soul or two would pass by, but he would ignore them. They would continue to wander and perhaps wander for all eternity. Recent wars had split families, making some hellions and others angels. So for some there was no comfort of the one day meeting with loved ones as they too passed. Still the bastard did not pity them, they had made their choice. A dark sacrificed everything for their title. They sacrificed morals, hope, love, and hapiness for the better of their kind. It was needed to be a good warrior, you had to be an empty shell in order to destroy the many lights that dared existed on this terrain. The brujo paused in his walk, his flints coming to a slow halt. There was a whore in his terra. Of course that would be nothing new except for he did not recognize the scent of this whore. He did not bring her to this hell. With an annoyed snort he took off again, this time towards the bitch's scent.

His long pillars had carried his frame swiftly towards the intruder. He came to a slow halt once more at the tree line, his gaze searching for the wench. His visionaries quickly spotted the dark wench and he tossed his head. No she was no mortal or deceased. The mare was another one of his goddesses. Perhaps the last one had died and a darker fem stepped up to take her place. Eruheran still did not completely understand why his goddess had left him but he didn't waste his time pondering on about it. He simply accepted the fact that she was indeed gone.

OCC: will finish later