Escape from the Blizzard, Iztyrr seeks refuge from the icy storm.

Iztyrr grabbed his bow, and a quiver of arrows before setting out into the nearby woods. He figured this may be one of the last chances he got to hunt, before the cool winter weather finally settled in. If there was one thing Iztyrr didn't like, it was definitely the cold, as back in his homeland underground, it was basically the same temperature all year long, with no major seasonal changes. He waited until the last rays of the sun dissapeared from view, and as he started walking out into the forest, he could already feel the cold of winter biting at his ears. He had trekked far out into the woods, and the moon was directly overhead. However, further to the south, clouds were rolling in... large, black clouds, beginning to cover the beautiful stream of stars twinkling over the black night sky. Iztyrr quickly noted this, and decided it would be in his best interest to head back, but the forest began to play tricks on him, and he became completely unaware of which way he had came from. He decided he would head south, and he continued to walk for at least an hour, before the storm clouds had flooded the night sky. He started to walk a little quicker, despite the cold aching pain in his legs, and as he looked behind him, he thought he saw the trees closing in. Iztyrr looked up once more at the sky, before a white snowflake landed square on his nose. 'Dang it!' He spoke aloud, in a voice that was a mixture of anger and disbelief. Before he knew it, all he could see was a thick wall of white snow, and he still pushed through, only making out shapes of large trees, and sometimes the occasional large rock. He started to loose feeling in his fingers and toes, and his ears felt as if they were on fire. He saw a strange shape in the distance, some sort of building, and he sighed with relief. 'I hope I can find warmth there...' he thought to himself 'If I have to stay out here in the cold for ONE MORE SECOND...' He then ran as fast as he could in the direction of the building, until he was less then a foot away. His hair was full of snow, and his cape flew around wildly, as if trying to escape from Iztyrr's back. The building in front of him was some sort of chapel. It looked as though it had long since fallen into disrepair. Vines took over one whole side of the chapel, despite the fact that they had recently died in the winter chill, and the stones had all darkened and were covered with moss. Most of the windows were broken, or gone completely, and spiderwebs were in every imaginable corner. Iztyrr stepped up to the once red front doors, that had now faded to a sort of pink, and grabbed the bat shaped door handles on both sides, swinging the doors open, and stepping inside.

ooc :: O-O. DOOD. YOU SAID YOU WERE, LIKE, SEMI-LITERATE. THAT IS, LIKE, NOT SEMI-LITERATE. THAT IS, LIKE. ADVANCED. O-O
*lurks* x3
I'll reply after I do my homework, if no one replies before me. 'Kay? Sorry to keep ya waitin'. n.n;

ooc; My pride is hurt. My posts shall be better, now...
This is totally a contest as of this moment.

I envy you to some small extent.

ooc: Well... Thank you I guess ^.^! I umm... really don't know what there is to say without sounding...
A) arrogant
obnoxious
or
C) Just plain moronic.

So I just wont say anything then... lol!

ooc: Sorry. The last post was mine... I didn't realize I wasn't logged in.

Renart had been walking down the street, his hands stuffed into his wool jacket desperate for warmth. The snowfall was stinging every inch of him, shelter was the only thing on his mind. Although, his home was quite a walk away, and away wasn’t something he was hopeful for. A nice cup of piping hot tea was something he would have hoped for also, along with a warmer coat…
His ears were currently flat against his head, having his ears filled with snow wasn’t something he wanted at the moment. Although his tail was wrapped around his leg, cold tail, really cold tail. Ren was urgently trying to think of somewhere to find refuge. He knew this place like the back of his hand, err, paw, and yet he was having trouble finding somewhere less freezing. And then it hit him! Literally, it did. A tuft of snow from atop the local Chapel landed on top of him, so much for not having big lumps of snow in your ears…
“Stupid weather…” Ren growled to no one in particular, digging his way from under the mass of snow. He brushed the snow of his shoulder before tugging on his tail because of it being lodged at the bottom of the pile. He finally dislodged his tail and instinctively wrapped it around his leg again. “Why can’t I feel my ears…” he thought “Or pretty much anything else for that matter.” He climbed out of the snow and made a beeline for the Chapel, abruptly stopping as another man came into his view. Ren grasped the hilt of his sword and impulsively perked up his ears, almost immediately regretting the ear action.

Iztyrr stood in the doorway, looking into the magnificent chapel. His eyes scanned the interior, and he attempted to imagine what a glorious chapel it must have been, gothic, but unremarkably gorgeous. Beautiful tapestries were hanging from ornate rods, depicting pictures of gods and goddesses of old. Unfortunately, most of the tapestries were either crooked, ripped, or torn completely off of the golden rod. There were black stained wooden pues running up and down the length of the main room. A lush crimson carpet ran along the aisle, but unfortunately it was all askew. The stained glass windows were either shattered or simply cracked along the edges, from which snow leaked in whenever the wind picked up. The floor and walls were made of stone, where small plants and bits of moss grew up between the cracks, not to mention the spiderwebs hanging in every corner. At the end of the aisle, at the other side of the room was a large pedestal which was made from onyx. A delicate black crystal chandelier dangled precariously above the pedestal, and those two things looked like the only two things that had been perfectly preserved. The last thing Iztyrr noticed, was a beautiful painting on the back wall, depicting a crescent moon, shining it's light which gradually broke into little spiders and bats. Now, Iztyrr became so transfixed with the inside of the chapel, he didnt even notice that he was still standing in the doorway. He jumped as he though he heard a noise, and he swung around cautiously. "The cold must really be getting to me..." He said aloud "I need to get inside". He shook off the feeling of being watched and he stepped into the building, closing the doors carefully behind him, as if the place was about to collapse.