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I Write Syns, Not Tragedies [Warrior Syn - Event]

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Rogue Mjölnir
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PostSubject: I Write Syns, Not Tragedies [Warrior Syn - Event] February 4th 2016, 09:10

To what did he owe, to be gifted with such a beautiful winter night such as thee? Cutting the ties, breaking them apart, his thoughts snapped into a casual flirtatious emotion, an altered version of his usual self, but he played it off just as if it were completely him and his ways. He had a knack for such a thing, others would know if they'd ever met the lad, but he thought none of it when strolling the moonlit paths of the night, the ground glittering with a light frost while the earth's debris was a rich dark brown, nearly frozen from underneath his large, thunderous paws. The doors of nature soon opened, and for those which were closed, could be heard on the other side as to what whispers and secrets were in store. Imagine that, he sneered. Those doors which were ajar seemed to find even more interest, his curiosity sparking as he'd near closer into the clearing, his golden hues unfolding to the beloved sight of Neptune's shores. As if a piano's keys played with each pacing step, the rogue moved inwards, slowly, a divine grace draped over his shoulders, an ironic passion to explore the land he came across. And with the sudden urge to prance, he did so in the most elegant fashion, sweeping his own feet off and leaping forwards into the soft sandy floor. The material seemed to fly off as soon as his paws met the surface, but he cared little and continued with joy.

The air was decently windy, a bit of a chill though nothing which phased the lad. It was merely nature's breath which pressed into his side and he happily faced it head on, his cheeks becoming cold from the wind pattern while his golden hues squinted out into the open. Oh, and what he would've thought to be, was even more spectacular, for the ocean blue was scattered with light. Nothing could compare thee to the aftermath of a blizzard in which would cover the land in glistening snow, for this was all the more beautiful. Peace be it, but the rogue inhaled slowly and closed his eyes through the exhale, his large chest rising and falling shortly after within the process. The voices were hushed by awe within him, serenity filling him rather the evil before he exhaled positive vibes. He could've sworn the waters were blue-er than he had first looked, but he moved towards the cold waves and stood at it's edge, admiring the sight as if it were to be the last image of his long life. What would make it even the better was someone to share the view with - he'd be a greedy wolf to receive such a gift on top of that after all. It'd be his pleasure.

Rogue actions. "Speaking in tongues." Cannibalistic thoughts.

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PostSubject: Re: I Write Syns, Not Tragedies [Warrior Syn - Event] February 22nd 2016, 19:24

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There's a fire inside this heart and a riot, about to explode into flames.
Syn steps onto the beach, the cool wet sand felt good between the toes of her paws. The sound of the waves as they brush their delicate fingers against the shore calmed the fae. The wind caressed her fur as it swirled around gently, speaking gentle whispers into her ears. She eyes the beauty of the water, how there seemed to be moonlight in the water. It was beautiful. She scented the fresh salty air and she couldn't help but be filled with an overwhelming sense of joy. Joy at how beautiful the world could could be despite how cruel it's been to her. It's times like this that makes her wonder if fate pities her and brings her to beautiful places to remind her how beautiful life can be. Almost as if it is saying Sorry you have a shitty past, here's something to distract you!

With a heavy heart, she felt as though she could see the ghost of her youngest siblings playing around in the water and playing. She watched as it seemed that their ghosts (or maybe it was her imagination) frolicked and splashed without a care in the world. Syn smiled and her heart ached, she knew it wasn't real, but she wished it was. She needed a distraction, a friend Maybe even, she shudders, a mate. She busts out laughing at the thought. Her mother always pushed her to settle down and raise a family. Syn always refused, the pack always came first. Plus no male has won her heart yet. Whether they have tried and given up, or they didn't try hard enough didn't matter. The males from her old pack sucked.
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