Post by Rogue on Aug 17, 2010 21:59:42 GMT -5
The noise became deafening almost instantly as the femme at last cleared the dense vegetation that was to be seen for miles. She had no more or less stepped from firm spring grass to a stony mud, and was greeted with the spraying of foam from millions of gallons of clear liquid that pounded ceaselessly to the basin’s depths. After dropping from a two mile high cliff-face, the waterfall created a most distinctive droning sound, and gave off the first evident signs of life she had seen in six days of traveling from her homeland. Her onyx orbs took in the lush emerald surroundings, and loud flow of liquid she had stumbled upon by chance. There were numerous things she wanted to explore, but chose to put off her curiosities for rest. Finding a tree, bearer of a generous canopy, the femme made herself a bed of moss and lichens for the afternoon, and was soon adrift her dreamer’s land.
Just before dusk, the moon-hued harlot opened her orbs to see what was making a slight rustling noise barely audible around the roaring beauty in the background. She supposed if one really tried, one would get used to the sound well enough. A deer had wandered from the safety of the woods to get a drink of refreshing, crystalline water and soak in the cooling mist the falls provided ceaselessly. The vixen lifted her fit frame from the bed of sump to catch dinner on silent talons. The victim couldn’t have even heard over the droning scenery as she used her barrel to knock the senseless doe ground level. A flint pressed down and broke the animal’s spinal cord at the base of the neck, also crushing the throat, and airway. The animal grew still from twitches and quirks or dying nerves gradually reaching their ends. She watched the process with mild curiosity until completion of her dinner’s passing, then sank her fangs into a hearty flank of the lifeless form to satisfy the gnawing protest of her stomach.
Just before dusk, the moon-hued harlot opened her orbs to see what was making a slight rustling noise barely audible around the roaring beauty in the background. She supposed if one really tried, one would get used to the sound well enough. A deer had wandered from the safety of the woods to get a drink of refreshing, crystalline water and soak in the cooling mist the falls provided ceaselessly. The vixen lifted her fit frame from the bed of sump to catch dinner on silent talons. The victim couldn’t have even heard over the droning scenery as she used her barrel to knock the senseless doe ground level. A flint pressed down and broke the animal’s spinal cord at the base of the neck, also crushing the throat, and airway. The animal grew still from twitches and quirks or dying nerves gradually reaching their ends. She watched the process with mild curiosity until completion of her dinner’s passing, then sank her fangs into a hearty flank of the lifeless form to satisfy the gnawing protest of her stomach.
