Zooooooooph >.>
Yeah, you know, my post is right above yours. I can see I didn't make that typo.
Scandinavian name!
Twist of it, anyway. Freja is the regular Danish form of the name...
Liek . . . is the urm level as high as I think it is?
Possibly.
I didn't mean a complete lack >.>
There be only one mazzelh snippet insofar!
Well, I do have a lot of characters who aren't mazzelhs, you know...
More:
Flames that had been roaring high suddenly quieted, the rage that had been fueling them slowly dying.
"I've bloody well had enough of you idiots;" Fagash snarled, her fire still smoldering visible in her stripes.
The two anthros, a cat and an iguana, huddled before her, frightened of the large tiger.
"You do NOT question the authority of us. It will cost you more than your lives if you decide to be so foolish."
Her eyes glowed with her inner fire, the scared duo making squeaky attempts at apologizing.
She scoffed at them. Trying to deny the authority of the Caanàshe served was dumb, even if it was often a seemingly distant authority. She would not let her mate or his line of heirs have disobedient pawns. Never.
***
Trilling, playing with its tail orb, 12 twirled around in the inner sphere of Hrowan. It was quite happy; no one was currently causing imbalances to the chaotic world, and thus it had a lot of free time. It spent some of it creating new isles, occasionally joined by 13 to make them come to life. The amount of living isles had been diminished greatly, not even the Reawakening helping much - so they were allowed to make new ones. This pleased the Hrulohn, as isles always seemed to be a pleasant challenge to shape. They had to be rather big, many times bigger than the black little critter itself. And it was fun to make them, a pleasure to let the energy flow into the stone as it slowly accepted to form the shapes. 12 batted at its orb, a small amount of rubble appearing at its fingertips. It laughed, bouncing happily.
***
Qoyh was falling. There was nothing unusual in this, the metallic horse had a bad habit of hurling himself off of random isles and other tall things. But he'd been falling for quite a while now, and he was getting utterly bored. He had reached his maximum velocity yesterday, and yet he still hadn't hid anything. His silvery fur was getting cold, and his mane and tail felt too windblown for his liking. Maybe he'd already fallen up and was now falling down again... He didn't quite know.
For a brief moment he wished he could remove the cloth from his head and actually see where he was. He hadn't sensed any isles for a long ...
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he had a fraction of a second to register that there was solid rock directly below him, before his body smashed hard into the stony ground. It made a horribly amount of breaking and cracking noises, then silence spread again.
Half an hour later he had managed to wrench his hoofless legs from the rock they had so swiftly been embedded in. It annoyed him to no end when he got stuck in a surface like that. It annoyed him even more that it never hurt him.
He stood up straight, shook his mane back into place. Swished his tail a little. Then he lifted his head and tried to get a sense of what direction to head in for the next damages he'd test his invulnerability with.
