Kamal vs. Sacred « Thread Started on Nov 14, 2006, 8:43pm »
it's ok lil putty cat. don't run, don't be afraid. it'll all be over soon
hell fire lit up his eyes and soul like hot embers of a dying fire. he would not be put out though. he stood waiting patiently for his challegner to arrive. auds lay plastered to his serptinine as if peramntly pinned.
he was not simply fighting for his adobe or Curbua but his already claimed mare. but he could not say he loved his vixen, not yet anyways. he scarcly gave his heart to anyone. loosign her would kill him but not enternaly destroy him.
he took careful mental note of all thel and around. it would aid later in battle. battel tactics soemtimes souly depended on the type of terrain they took place on. hew ould not lose because he was stupid.
if he was going to lose his life would go with him. living with the embarsment of a lsos would be unbearable. he'd die before he lost. After all he had nothing to lose.
but his pelt bore the scars of many battles won. he was confident, not cocky. he would win though. there was no doubt in his mind. he was unerved.
Re: Kamal vs. Sacred « Reply #1 on Nov 19, 2006, 8:08pm »
Kamal three beated easily onto the fighting terra. He was sick of war and the nastiness that came with. He just wanted his land, his love and his foal back. Deja Vu was the handsomest foal since hisself after all. And Curuba...words could not describe her beauty nor her personality for the describe her, a whole new word meaning every other kind, devoted word must be made. The rojo and scabbed stallion halted and snorted, nares flaring softly. To lose Curuba would be unbearable. He must win.
His scars rippled as he shook, muscles flexing. He threw his crania to the heavens and called a last warning. Brute, claim some other land with an uncaring stallion ruling. For a caring brute will fight to the death for his love. Kamal felt a beast rip at his heart, the sinking feeling of life without Curuba. He wouldn't be able to go on, to live if he lost to this embaressing equine. The equus standing in front of him was an embaressment to the name of grisly stallions. Kamal's sleek coat shone, the scars diluting its once vibrant hue. Deja Vu would at least carry on his bloodlines. The stag wouldn't be able to kill the coltine for Curuba would die first, he knew it. She was like that, that's what Kamal like in her. He only wished that this horse would leave him be.
The crimson brujo struck out with a forehoof, scraping dirt and emerald strands of dying grasses from Hell's own roof. He couldn't believe the audacity of the canines that attacked him. Yet know they paid for each was dead and rotting in the dog version of Hell. A life without Curuba and Deja Vu would be Hell to this brute. The stallion reared high and struck out, calling a scream of challenge from within his muscled bossom, form within the lungs that lived a reeking life, caged behind ribs in an unexplored cavern. As Kamal landed, he shook his skull, hoping Curuba would not bring their offspring to see this life or death fight.
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