I'm. Really. Fucking. High. These words echo in your head as you stand beside a stream in the late morning. The sun overhead brightens the area around you, revealing strangely segregated pairs of horses battling with one another. You know you must be high for two reasons. One- you don't remember how you got to this place at all. You just blinked your eyes and suddenly you were here. Two- you look like a god damn fool. You look back and see a leather strap is tied around your waist and rump, long dried grasses falling down from the strap and surrounding your hind limbs on all sides almost to the ground. They're even rainbow colored. Then you look down to your chest. Two coconut halves are pressed up against your manly pectoral muscles, an intricate series of straps wrapped around your neck and under your limbs keeping them in place. Your signature drug bag is gone from your shoulder. Finally, you look down into the river. Your reflection reveals the source of an annoying rusting in your ears. A beautiful string of flowers is wrapped around your ears and up and down each of your two horns. I'M A HULA GIRL?!?

As you step away from the river, a series of insults beings to roll through your brain. You don't say them aloud, but sailors would cover their ears to hear you swear. You curse your drugs for taking you to this strange place, you curse the gods because you can't imagine what you did to anger them and you curse yourself because you must have mixed up your drug plants with something else (you don't usually hallucinate). Then, you find something else to curse. He's big, just like you. He's sturdy, horned and bay. He does have one thing you don't have, though. Wings. It doesn't matter. Hallucination or not, you're still pissed and you're still going to take it out on someone or something. This unlucky, bone-nosed stallion has suddenly become your target.

A blood-curling war scream breeches your lips and you watch the bay for a response. He must know what the sound means- he looks like he has more scars than you do. You're impressed- your subconscious has conjured up quite an opponent for you. The desire for blood makes your muscles tremble. The one thing you are glad for is that in your hallucination you don't feel slow, lazy or uncoordinated like you usually do. You feel strong and balanced, ready to make your opponent bleed and add a new color to your rustling skirt. Thank the gods for some kind of break.

You don't waste any more time screwing around. You're not about to let bone-nose get away from you- then who would you take all your frustrations out on? You force your big body into a canter and try to head towards your opponents side, the grass skirt beginning to swish around your limbs. Their tickling touch is nothing short of infuriating and your resolve to smash bone-nose to pieces is suddenly redoubled. Your massive hooves strike the ground, taking you closer to your opponent with each step. It doesn't take you more than a second to determine your first specific target. The wings. If the stallion can't fly, he won't be able to escape as quickly, and you need him near you if you're going to beat him bloody. As you close the final step between you and your opponent, you throw your head down, trying to drive your horns into the junction between wing and shoulder. You don't even bother to stop running, your only other goal to crash your... lovely lady lumps into bone-nose's side. Maybe the coconut bra will be good for something after all. Then, you think one more thing you never expected to think during this strange hallucination. Is that a snake?

WC: 644
Post: 1/3
@[Gaucho]- I won't tag every time, just wanted to let you know I'd started :)

we all look for ways to make the pain go away