Post by Dragon on Oct 27, 2005 19:21:10 GMT -5
And so be it...
- - -
The arise of the Beast of all Brutes, with a tongue of slick spitfire, relloflects peircing through thee with miraculous shades of crimsons, and all of Him is carried with a wrath that can burn for eternity if not cautious. If a threat 'tis, a finish for you 'twill be. But mostly, surpise is the remainer of his attack, which can be with provocation. Talons will rip what needs to be damaged and fangs of a posionous touch can cut deeper than the sting of Death that can be experienced. If one is wise and wishes to attempt to outsmart the beast, you can listen to the air-beating wings, or the snort of starting war. Call of this as your final warning, for there aren't any last straws. He's burned them all.
- - -
Status of the Dragon:
And so they call me Dragon
I have flown around this Earth for five years
My standing stance is the height of 15.2
I am the breed of an elegant Dragon, Arabian
My bloodlines that run through me are those of Latina, the bewitched damsel, and I am the Spawn of Firestorm, Kineth of the faraway dungeon of my life, Rundith. My damsel's lines can be lined back to the great ruler, known of Toric.
Markings of me are invisble under my ebon coating
The lines I best present of my departed are the temperment which can be found in a blink, the hatred I find for the weaker, for what is purpose for them in the world of ruling?
The temper I keep within me is as cold as the heart of ice and the rage of anger that I can get if I please with you.
My past is raveled up and knotted, filled with immense amounts of unwantance, yet, growing to the beast I am, my adorers admire me for what I am. Prince of Rundith, taking flight with enormous sheilds to a terrain where I can start new. My past is of what makes of me now. Tamers were harmed in the making of my life.
I have flown around this Earth for five years
My standing stance is the height of 15.2
I am the breed of an elegant Dragon, Arabian
My bloodlines that run through me are those of Latina, the bewitched damsel, and I am the Spawn of Firestorm, Kineth of the faraway dungeon of my life, Rundith. My damsel's lines can be lined back to the great ruler, known of Toric.
Markings of me are invisble under my ebon coating
The lines I best present of my departed are the temperment which can be found in a blink, the hatred I find for the weaker, for what is purpose for them in the world of ruling?
The temper I keep within me is as cold as the heart of ice and the rage of anger that I can get if I please with you.
My past is raveled up and knotted, filled with immense amounts of unwantance, yet, growing to the beast I am, my adorers admire me for what I am. Prince of Rundith, taking flight with enormous sheilds to a terrain where I can start new. My past is of what makes of me now. Tamers were harmed in the making of my life.
