Child of summer and peace. Unbroken the rose tint of naive innocence, all that was known shaped by care, the darkness obscured. Best the option within that present moment, delicate the mind to such a degree further explanation may break it, poor it now when tension broke, the clamour of war hushed now exploding in a myriad of sound.

Basic the grasp he had about the intended plan, present during the last moments when formulation had been conducted and much had been decided, his own role meagre, if existent at all. Gently persuade away from the idea, cited that he knew as factors contributing to the danger behind his inclusion, yet ignored each, a din that merely aggravated. A child, untested and thus of no use, expectation to simply wait upon the sidelines. Once may have been heeded the words spoken in tones masking worry, disregarded with a faux promise, the break easy when he viewed nothing was present on the table.

Idiot child with his head in the clouds.

Alone Salvia stood upon the porch that ringed that he had known as home, bundled inside once it became apparent possibility was present and the rest had gathered, an observer bearing a wide grin. Soon it fell, widened mouth as eyes did alike, gargled the choked off noises caught in restricted throat. He knew the status of his father, his being not mortal in whole, abomination ringed by spines that which replaced, however, boulders struck against one another with a thundering echo the voice it released in short responses. Begun the commotion as entwined grew the beasts, ivory and ebony wound in deadly dance, crimson dripping between scales in shallow rivets.

Away vision skittered and another was caught unawares after supposed victory against one of their captors, false monarch relishing the fight, once before won and likely assured again may he claim victory. Scream bubbled forth, held behind teeth at the cracking arc lightning cut through air grown electrified, apparent the tang ozone cast in its wake. Counter staged in moments, brief the manner Salvia was mesmerised by the flashing lights adorning fins, away turning as shakey steps allowed him to enter the battlefield. Poor choice, no combatant left and thus he merely stood, slight the tremor that overtook even as settled across cream hued visage a snarl bordering upon a grimace.

With every monster there was someone to slay it, but in war the monster was nothing but an opponent: even here Argus knew this. In comparison to their first battle where Argus was surrounded by all sides, taken prisoner… It felt glorious, for once to be of the size, the stance to fight back. To destroy their enemy, to feel nothing but glee and the strain of such muscles from a long hard fight. Even outnumbered Argus felt weightless, graceful as in their element of war.

The fight had just started, clear cut across the battle Argus was a rallying point. With Aurum’s spins along the throat and tail end of his form Argus knew there was very little Argus could battle against. They were a physical creature, this form had once only been used to overwhelm, to destroy and overpower; But here Argus admitted to facing a bigger opponent, who shifted as easy as breathing. It was to aurum only a body of war, to where for argus their’s has become something of a lifeline. It bore their bones and blood and Argus like many shifters grew more acostomed to it as breathing.

Argus didn’t wear this body as a skin so much as they had become it, but down to their core they would always be a wolf, and wolves were relentless.

The mask on argus’ features covered the natural defense against the spines. The taste of blood in their mouth was a victory. The taste of the angel was sweet on their tongue. The other’s mind was delicious, even unconscious they could see it. a sea of static, without thought or mercy: in another circumstance, they could’ve been friends, there could’ve been companionship.

But here there was only battle, and the other’s challenging words didn’t deter them, the pale white dragon remained silent, but the edge’s of their mask revealed crooked, gleaming teeth of a smile Caged tongue slipping between to lick a smear of blood on their porcelain white mask.

They reared back, pushing out of the sight of the sweeping tail and instead catching the lunge from the angle. The Shinigami’s clawed hands came down from the rear to push Arurum’s face down into the dirt. Grinding his face into the mud of his bog-like home.

“You will make a good challenge” Their voice was solemn, but in the cries of battle Argus’ voice was a roar. From their vantage clawed wings went to claw down the sides they could reach, in aim for the eyes that littered on the sides of this form. Make him feel the pain, even at the risk of the spines that crept at the edge’s of their wings from the brush with spines. Argus’ own Adrenalin making the stings fell all but nothing in the midst of battle.

[member=6881]aurum.[/member]