Post by Danzig on Sept 1, 2010 21:49:38 GMT -5
Phi sat, utterly alone in a half-crumbled throne amidst damp grey stone. Thr night sky twinkled down above her, casting the light of star and moon onto her red tinted pelt, casting it in an unearthly purple glow.
Marshank had crumbled, it's timbers rotten away so the sky was exposed, but the fortress still stood. After all these years, a beacon of dread still on the now protected coast. The newfound peace brought by Salamandastron's rule over the Western Coast did not stop goodbeasts and searats from avoiding this place, fearful of the ghost of the old tyrant, his name washed from memory by a mere mouse, but that was all part of the past.
In the mind's eye of the strange wildcat, the crumbling throneroom was sparkling and new as new as the day it was made. It's halls filled with vermin, scrabbling over a little peice of gold or fighting for fun. It would not be hard to do, she thought, the structure of the place was still firm, perhaps with a bit of help.. a sly grin came to her perfectly symetrical and scarless face, a face of proud natural beauty but yet cold and unwelcoming.
This ambition of hers could be realized, and the coast, perhaps the world, would come to fear the name Marshank once again, and the name of the would-be tyrant perched thoughtfully on the ancient throne.
Marshank had crumbled, it's timbers rotten away so the sky was exposed, but the fortress still stood. After all these years, a beacon of dread still on the now protected coast. The newfound peace brought by Salamandastron's rule over the Western Coast did not stop goodbeasts and searats from avoiding this place, fearful of the ghost of the old tyrant, his name washed from memory by a mere mouse, but that was all part of the past.
In the mind's eye of the strange wildcat, the crumbling throneroom was sparkling and new as new as the day it was made. It's halls filled with vermin, scrabbling over a little peice of gold or fighting for fun. It would not be hard to do, she thought, the structure of the place was still firm, perhaps with a bit of help.. a sly grin came to her perfectly symetrical and scarless face, a face of proud natural beauty but yet cold and unwelcoming.
This ambition of hers could be realized, and the coast, perhaps the world, would come to fear the name Marshank once again, and the name of the would-be tyrant perched thoughtfully on the ancient throne.