08-18-2018, 02:50 AM
[div style="cursor: url("http://cur.cursors-4u.net/cursors/cur-9/cur836.cur"), auto; margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]There is an itch, an uncomfortable, stinging sensation which was crawling beneath her skin in the most unreachable of locations. Ungracefully, she's tried everything, trying to use sharp rocks to scratch the feeling away. Virgo thought she was going crazy when her earthly hues saw the dozens of bronze feathers trailing behind her, knowing full well that they were hers. The raptor doesn't dare imagine her unruly appearance for the very thought of imperfections drive her mad. Her feathers are sprouting all over the place. Wild and uneven, as if the concept of time failed to coincide within the universe the raptor strove in. Virgo shakes her plumage. Scrawny, alabaster feathers in all their inelegance are beginning to climb out of her skin, desperate to see sunlight. There is almost a beauty to the ugliness which seemed to shine over her youthful features, radiating the creaks and cracks of what the barbarian didn't particularly feel happy with.
When the child awakens from her dreamless slumber, her claws grasp a clutch of shed feathers. Matted but soft. She rises from her nest and one can see the patches of mismatched feathers dressing her unworldly scales. Bronze, white and gold. There are parts of herself which she was born with and segments of herself she was gaining. The new ivory which presses along her streamlined body illuminate a sense of the girl's royal personality, her narcissism accented by the tips of gold which appear along her crest. Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, a rolling purr resonating from deep within her diaphragm. As usual, Exodus had gone off to elsewhere. Virgo isn't pleased when her sister chooses to go off on her own, not after all the bickering for Virgo's rightful place as the venandi's alpha. She immediately goes off in search for the striker, stopping to take a drink when her moulting plumage bears an uncanny resemblance. Repulsed, she screeches at the water then continues to the beach, heart thundering in discomfort and fear of her unsightly face, the hideous assortment of feathers.
Already in a bad mood, she shrieks threateningly at Marcellus. She can hear the clicking and she doesn't like it, she doesn't like how this creature is trying to talk to Exodus. Of course, the smallest of things could irritate her. It was her mood, having woken up to see the wrong side of her face - mismatched and unhappy, distorted by her image of self pride. Her feathers rise in aggression, fluffing up as the young dinosaur boldly walks towards Marcellus with a series of hisses.
When the child awakens from her dreamless slumber, her claws grasp a clutch of shed feathers. Matted but soft. She rises from her nest and one can see the patches of mismatched feathers dressing her unworldly scales. Bronze, white and gold. There are parts of herself which she was born with and segments of herself she was gaining. The new ivory which presses along her streamlined body illuminate a sense of the girl's royal personality, her narcissism accented by the tips of gold which appear along her crest. Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, a rolling purr resonating from deep within her diaphragm. As usual, Exodus had gone off to elsewhere. Virgo isn't pleased when her sister chooses to go off on her own, not after all the bickering for Virgo's rightful place as the venandi's alpha. She immediately goes off in search for the striker, stopping to take a drink when her moulting plumage bears an uncanny resemblance. Repulsed, she screeches at the water then continues to the beach, heart thundering in discomfort and fear of her unsightly face, the hideous assortment of feathers.
Already in a bad mood, she shrieks threateningly at Marcellus. She can hear the clicking and she doesn't like it, she doesn't like how this creature is trying to talk to Exodus. Of course, the smallest of things could irritate her. It was her mood, having woken up to see the wrong side of her face - mismatched and unhappy, distorted by her image of self pride. Her feathers rise in aggression, fluffing up as the young dinosaur boldly walks towards Marcellus with a series of hisses.