A new disease . joining

[HISOKA]

[table][tr][td]

[/td][td]

BLOOD AND BONE !

the soft uncurling of sunlight, cotton candy smiles bleeding red, dripping blood. all grainy images that you never want to reveal to youself:  reflection. hisoka is the catastrophe hidden in the stillness, the mourning of a single-note song and the death of all the purity. Bloodlust and cake

[/td][/tr][/table]

soft dawn, dew crisp and air fresh and clean. the kitsune hummed lowly, a light Jerry tune to the incandescent beat his tails swayed to. a hauntly little tune. light were the materials along the kitsune's persons, an obi tied neatly along the base of his tail, adorned with a spiraling crimson ball with a single star shape of running silver. gold coined eyes watched the sun rise slowly from his steady walk, prowling along towards his destination the same way a hunter corners it's prey, without hurry and utter certainty. Hisoka was without rush or mercy, a clan lay upon his sights and he would seek it out. if nothing else, a passing curiosity, and something more; a place to settle before the next challenge took to his obsession.

living a life of simple pleasures, the kitsune wanted little in a home. a small hovel- home. a place to greet and inspire both fear and wonder in equal ability. he was a magician, a showman, a murderer, and a hunter: a fox did nothing but play with their food, and who was he to deny his nature? living for three hundred some years did little but expand his horizons, and in those horizons the small cozy clan of peace and democracy called to him, if for nothing else, an interesting experience.

so he wait along the border that day, in the softer morning a hidden blade- threat in hisoka's presence. the painted fox's face turned towards the sky as he watched the horizon for movement, for a stranger- fellow to greet him.