<div align="center">(http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y106/silveritha/banner-gryphon.jpg)<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>You look pretty when you cry.</em></span></span></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">A puff of smoke, the linger of vanilla, and that cherry glowed to the fullest. Such was the means when sharp eyes watched and a tail curled. In truth, it was simply the careful gaze of dark honey and gesture of elegance that found that man seated as he let his ankle rest up at the top of his left knee. Relaxed in every manner he should be even when meticulous to the manner he kept that suit without a blemish to show. Easy enough when plucking a random hair - be it a cat or dog’s - and flicking it away.<br/><br/>Always here. Always waiting. It was his routine and one he maintained with care and obsession every morning until high past noon. He enjoyed these times, one where one noble isn’t on the thoughts and his own are all that were to be seen to. So it was at the park that found him, on time as it was, as if giving the watch on his wrist a run for it’s lovely make. <br/><br/>Why was he there?<br/><br/>Because he wanted to be.<br/><br/>The same while the gaze found a mouse, a cat, and a hare. All things to be prey for the eyes of an eagle and the jaws of a lion. And he was both. All knew that, even if many attempted to find the big cat that purred. But he never purred. Not even when he could get the Cat to purr instead. <br/><br/>His approach, both in the casual bend and stretch of his frame to see him up, was one more like a prowl with the flutter of great wings. To imagine, if he could only open his arms, he might be able to take to the air. He did that, however, in a different manner. Pilot as he was professional driver, with every use of that gray toned suit and black tie when he seemed as prim and proper as they would come. Even to the slick of hair looking far darker than it really was, he was polished down to the very gesture of his movements. He was where he belonged - high up above the others.<br/><br/>Even when out of sight by many. It was the best place to be. <br/><br/>“My my my...”, an introduction of words seeming more prose from his lips than true conversation when it was with that approach - the landing of the beast seen as The Gryphon - to spot not only prey but that of a jewel to be kept far away from the others. “…you’ll scare her. Silly.” <br/><br/>Though never wonder if one was to be missed or not in his gaze, for nothing leaves his attention without duly noted. Not when those golden hues browsed each there and found little details to tuck away for future times. When that stopped, however, and allowed his attention to settle, it was on the little lovely which found it with nothing but the most gentlemanly of smiles. But the introduction was for everyone, even if those eyes saw it only for the jewel in front of him.<br/><br/>“The name's Gryphon.” </span></span><br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>You’re made of my sin.</em></span></span></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><strong>Name:</strong>  Gryphon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>  Park<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>  Cinnamon, Hare, Them, and all those in ear shot</span>