Post by EMILE AVAANT on May 1, 2011 14:05:05 GMT -5
Emile was utterly bored.
Today was one of the rare days the little Newborn didn't have his thirst hanging over every action like an adult, so he kinda had nothing to do. He'd amused himself thus far by climbing and sprinting through the forest which, while a lot of fun, got boring fast when you where REALLY good at both.
He was currently sat on the edge of a stream, staring at his reflection. The sunlight sparkled off his skin, as much as he wished it wouldn't. It didn't look right on him. He flicked some of his hair back over his shoulders, drawing his knees up to his chest. He did like his eyes though, the deep dark red. He'd always loved red when he was... normal.
Normal. Two months of killing people had much erased any trace of normal the boy might have had. But the thrill of the killing, the hunting, it was so intoxicating - but it made him feel worse about himself.
The boy smoothed out his little dress, sighing he stood up and leapt across the river, looking around for anything to do. He snorted slightly, seeing a large tree he kicked his shoes off and leapt at it, climbing it with ease he lay stretched out on a branch like a cat, one leg hanging off the side he yawned, content to soak up the sun as much as he couldn't sleep.
Today was one of the rare days the little Newborn didn't have his thirst hanging over every action like an adult, so he kinda had nothing to do. He'd amused himself thus far by climbing and sprinting through the forest which, while a lot of fun, got boring fast when you where REALLY good at both.
He was currently sat on the edge of a stream, staring at his reflection. The sunlight sparkled off his skin, as much as he wished it wouldn't. It didn't look right on him. He flicked some of his hair back over his shoulders, drawing his knees up to his chest. He did like his eyes though, the deep dark red. He'd always loved red when he was... normal.
Normal. Two months of killing people had much erased any trace of normal the boy might have had. But the thrill of the killing, the hunting, it was so intoxicating - but it made him feel worse about himself.
The boy smoothed out his little dress, sighing he stood up and leapt across the river, looking around for anything to do. He snorted slightly, seeing a large tree he kicked his shoes off and leapt at it, climbing it with ease he lay stretched out on a branch like a cat, one leg hanging off the side he yawned, content to soak up the sun as much as he couldn't sleep.
