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04-14-2013, 01:20 AM
 Be it flood or be it fire
I will come in times most dire A shadow falls over my mismatched eyes at this beast's words, but I still manage to keep myself from saying something that I know that I will regret. I know that she is just playing with me, trying to make me lose my temper, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of watching the spittle fly from my maw as I berate her for the harsh words and the misconceptions that she has targeted towards my gods. At this point my endless stores of patience are starting to wane, and my joyous facade has dampened into a look that barely shows my tolerance for the winged mare, but I persevere. Afterall, I had had to put up with my mother's racist plights for the past six years. "No, child, I did not kill a bird to craft this crown. I would never harm such a creature; nor would I shed the blood of any animal. It is not right to cause pain to another." I give the shorter mare a hard stare, making sure that my message has made it through that thick skull of hers regardless of my heavy spanish accent. It is after a few moments have passed that I decide that I need to clarify what I have just said. "Our kind are known to be quite territorial, yes? Much blood is spilled each year because of our tendencies to act out with much anger. Instead of joining in our kind's wars, I prefer to remain without alliance, and offer my services to all." Without realizing it, I had stepped closer to the feathery child and now I was craning my neck to look into her blue eyes, my eyes wide with my will for her to understand. A snort sounds from my chocolate naves when she begins to speak again, asking more questions and rubbing my beliefs in even more dirt. I toss my head back at her mentioning if a shit god, astounded by her arrogance and not entirely impressed with her attempt at humor. A cacophony of clacks follows my exasperated gesture as the feathers strung around my neck clash against one another, and when my crown runs parallel to the earth again I snap, "No, there is no god of mierda -- of 'shit' -- and I am not sure that even the plants have their own gods. How am I to know of a plant's way of life when I myself am not one? And who are you to say that my lords and ladies do not exist? Have you met with them? Where is your truth? Your evidence?" My eyes flash with anger as conviction begins to enter my words, making my accent sound much thicker than it is normally, when I am my usual self. It would appear that the ebony one had been successful in enraging me after all. "It is you that is nothing, little mocoso. And how dare you make such false claims." Lashing my long tresses against my flanks, I turn on my heels and -- with my head held high and my banner on full display -- storm away from the mare, determined to meet with each herd on my own if it is only imbeciles that will great me in this realm. {OOC: Mocoso means 'brat' in Spanish. :3} Walk walk walk. "Talk talk talk".  |
