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Confutatis laughs.
It grows in her chest, a sense of hysteria, that blossoms until it overflows into the rain, a throaty, hoarse chuckle that glitters with darkness and shines with cruelty. She watches them gather at Phaedra's call, a pathetic, despicable gathering. "You are fucking fools, aren't you," she sighs beneath her breath, the sound of her mutterings drowned out by the rain to even the closest of watchers. Her head raises proud, amber eye glittering heinously. "Phaedra!" The vindictive mare calls out, her voice cracked and hoarse. "Oh Phaedra, are you disappointed in me? You are one dumb slut, aren't you? Look at your herd! You have three followers of the mountain pines, and no doubt their loyalty is fierce, but you are weak! Your so-called army is outnumbered by the outcasts trespassing without warning on your land!" They were- Confutatis did not know their relationship with the Foothills. All she saw through the sheets of rain was a woeful, bedraggled group of horses, half of which had appeared out of nowhere to watch the show.
And she would give them their show, and watch their cocky little grins fall off their faces and splatter in the mud as she defeated Apollo.
The pretty little lord comes, untouched by signs of war. Oh, how very sleek he was, all damp black hair and creamy patches, with his nice blue horn. How she would love to dance on him as he crashed in the mud, to bathe in his blood, to watch tears fill up those tender, resolute eyes. Dead, he would die, he would flee and crumble beneath her, he was weak and she was strong, so strong, oh god they would remember her today, this was the beginning of her iron reign. Die, little lordling. Or flee. Either way, I will rise victor.
The cowardly healer does not move to meet her, and she trembles with impatience, a madwomen, teeth bared and ears pinned, amber eye glowing with elation. Quiver, quiver, quiver goes her scarred body.
Then her patience fails her, and she charges forward, not wasting breath on vicious answers, instead her thoughts ringing with treacherous, mad thoughts. Die, die, die her hooves sing as they thunder in the mud, coating her lower legs in a thick skin of turd brown. Her mind is sharp and clear, and her eye even more so. It had always surprised here how in Helovia nobody tried to work off her blind eye. Back in her kingdoms, her fighters had always tried to keep away her good side, so as to sneak up on her unawares. To make up for this, she weaved her head back and forth, keeping Apollo in line of sight, charging face-on.
She did not carry too much speed with her, knowing the mud would only slide beneath her hooves should she try to halt; she slowed early before meeting him, and with rainwater dripping from her legs and down her mane, Confutatis reared, waiting for him to meet her. Should he not, and if he does not move, she hopes to crush him, all precautions for her own safety gone, uncaring that his blue horn could so easily catch her in the gut.
"I am the daughter of Oblivion the Demon King, and you - will - fall." She hisses, just loud enough so that Apollo could hear her malignant threat.
Acid drips from her jaws, glee shines in her eyes.
Die, die, die, die, die, watch me rule!
CONFUTATIS
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[JUDGED] Denouncement [Apollo - Leadership Challenge]
