Serpentine eyes glide over it's target. The prey unsuspecting, as expected. Those deadly eyes follow it's every movement, taking in all weaknesses and it makes plans to exploit each and every one of them.
Those golden eyes hold an unparalleled need. The need for recognition, the need for power, the need for living. It's curiosity never dwindles, it only expands beyond the thoughts of it's prey.
They will never understand the longing. The sharp blankness that ices over his heart. The ice is cold, oh so cold. But the fire is what he fears. The fire warms him, it gives him feelings he does not want. Not after having the ice with him for so long. The fire is said to protect, from the shadows. But he is wiser than those pitiful herbivores. He knows.
Fire is volatile. It cannot be tamed. It can only be guided. A flame is dangerous, he knows because the ice starts to melt around it, no matter how small. Even the smallest flames can ignite a forest with enough materials. It is what makes the forest dangerous. The flames will catch and burn, they support eachother like the roots of a tree, and they will follow him until they extinguish. But even as they extinguish, they will leave a mark of their existence. And that mark will haunt the hearts of the next flames. He does not want the sins of the past.
The ice is fragile. It preserves beauty in it's wake. The fragility of it's piercing power is what entices him. It rules over those who have given up the indecisive flame. The ice will always be there.
It claws at him when he is dreaming.
Even for its downfalls, the ice never leaves. It shelters him from the brutality that is the flame. The flame will never appreciate the fragility that life contains.
That is why he will pull all he can from humanity to live. Life is much too short to control.
That is the difference between the ice and flame. The ice will cocoon him in a protection of cold hearted pain, but the flame will bring him even greater pain with its constant presence. The ice will never leave a mark, the true definition of a shadow, but a flame will never cease to exist. Ice will dominate slowly, taking over subtly, preserving beauty. Unlike the flame which will burn and destroy all, in its song as it rages a warpath.
The ice is calm, and it always will be, that brings him comfort. While the flame will fluctuate and die off within seconds. It disturbs him how beauty can be killed so easily. How unreliable. The flame beckons him, trying to overwhelm him with its presence. He does not like it. The flame nears him. It is blinding in its brilliance. He decides. The flame will only hurt him in the end. But for now, he'll stay for the power it provides.
.
.
.
However.
.
.
.
He will always be loyal to the ice.
His heart doesn't belong to the burning flame that doesn't appreciate the beauty of fragility.
Serpentine eyes flash as the prey drops. It's silver fangs are swallowed in blood. Drip. Drop. Drip. The rhythm pulses in his skull. The area is painted in what one would call mercy.
Lifeless eyes hold nothing but joy. No time to even comprehend it's doom. The snake had waited until it's joyous feast was done to strike. Mercy belongs only to the strong.
As fangs are retracted, the snake blends into the grass. Waiting until the day it finally frees itself from the suffocating gases that is the flame.
.
Curiosity drives the mind, and what drives the mind drives the heart. What drives the heart drives their life. Life is much too fragile to appreciate. He'll take all he can salvage of this iced heart to appreciate all he can of this wondrous beauty.
Agh. So. This one was the drabble thing I made for Orochi. And, like, yeah. Feedback would be nice because I don't even know what I'm typing half the time to be honest. Uh. Okay. BAM.
