Post by Fallen on Apr 22, 2023 18:02:27 GMT -7
The buttermilk and ivory vixen swayed along the path that led to The Whore House. Inky tresses tumbled in rivets along her slender and arched boa, and gently trailed behind her along the ground. Her deep blue gaze was abnormally blank. Not to long ago, she had heard the whispers of a fiery orange colored vixen with black stripes and a pale crow. She knew beyond measure that the female spoken of was none other than Nirvana. The past empress of Elutheria before she herself and her father meandered here. However, this alone was not why the normally proud and striking vixen held a blank unnerving stare. She felt rejected by the orange colored wench, cast aside when all she had ever held for the past queen was affection and dare she say, love. Yet, each time Gothika sought out the brindled bitch, nothing. No trails. No meetings. Nothing at all.
It was obvious to her now that Nirvana had never reciprocated the feelings, that Nirvana felt only Ire for her and her father, Selven. At the thought of her handsome sire, her black tipped ears swiveled to land in the sea of black tresses. Gothika's head rose slightly, a scowl threatening to break along her pink and ashen lips. She was always a shadow of her father. No more than a flashy trophy that he carried on his hip. A dog that he could send without fail to wrangle, tease and coerce victims, foals and mares alike all into his grasp. Gothika felt her stomach twist at the thought of knowing that for all her life, she was seen as nothing more than a meager daughter of a beast. A sow. Something to call on when nights were dark and lonely. The buttermilk and ivory vixen shook her head then, trying her best to rid her mind of the disheartening thoughts... She would make a name for herself here, get from beneath the glowering shadow of her father. Although deeply, the duo toned woman knew her father thought the world of her, and that these negative feelings were just that - feelings - she couldn't shake the poison of it that seeped into her blood.
Once more, the vixen shook her skull, lifting her fine tiara high as she came along the outskirts of The Whore House. Before she and her father had vanished previously, she was set to meet with the ruler of this land.. set to be of use to the stallion she had yet to lay eyes on. However, she was certain that for her father to offer her so willingly to the beast there must of been something of worth that he saw within the tyrant. With that thought, Gothika parted her cool lips and let forth a gentle, magnetic call to Charmer. After so, she craned her skull slightly, arching her fine neck and poising herself beautifully. Gothika was many things... sultry, seductive, a lover of all things deranged... but she was not daft in the slightest. The bubble exterior hid a darkness that could rival her father in the right circumstance. Yet, here she waited, calm and easy. Her fine slick pelt glistening in the shallow light. Curious as to what this meeting may lead to down the line.
TAGGED: fleabittengray
WORD COUNT: 544
OOC: Curious to see how this goes!
