satanic silk

Silk padded through the red gold sand that made up the earth of the herdland. He kept his wings tucked against his body. Though spreading them and taking wing perhaps would cool him off, he felt the sun beating down on him and chose to stay bound to the earth. He shook his mane, flipping it to the other side of his neck to let the growing sweat dry. It was a desert land, so it made sense that the heat would cling to the land during the day. Unfortunately for him, his dark body meant that he absorbed all the heat of the sun and more.

Better to keep walking and keep a breeze up against his body than stay in one spot, however, and that was what Silk sought to do today. He was exploring his homeland, looking for new places to hide and enjoy, and new herd members to torment. Silk tossed his check and chuckled. Torment was a fun word. He hesitated now as voices reached his ears. Two females, neither were ones that he recognized. Vixens were always fun to play with, and he would enjoy jumping in on their conversation.

They were still a ways away, and so the stallion's body lifted itself into action and began approaching the voices at a lazy trot. By the sound of things, they were moving slowly, and Silk knew he would catch up to them before they got too far. Sure enough, their forms appeared ahead of him as he crossed over a dune. A pale form, pale as the moon, was leading, with feathery wings hoisted upon her back. Following her at an even slower pace was raven colored unicorn, her lion's tail dragging behind her in the dusty air. Silk groaned as the dune began to make his progress difficult, and he extended his leathery wings, flapping them once... twice.. as he lifted himself from the sand, and deposited his bulky body on the other side of the dune. Silk shook them out, and tucked them back in before resuming his trot. The pair were much closer now, and Silk thought he picked up on them mentioning scars and parents.

Silk had never really known his parents. He only knew his mother, as she had given birth to him and nursed him. But as soon as he had been weaned she had vanished, leaving him to fend for himself. He'd heard rumors from other horses he passed that it was because of his markings on his face, that he was somehow cursed and that his mother had only stayed because of what she felt was her motherly obligation. In either case, he didn't dwell on the past. There was nothing but loneliness and emptiness there.

The brute closed in on the pair, and pulled up right behind the horned vixen. He followed silently, waiting for them to notice him, which he presumed would not take them long. He was strong and agile, but not particularly silent in movement. His silver forelock fell over his face, one of his three feathers cock-eyed between his two furry ears. He waited far enough behind the blackened lady so that if she started and decided to land a hoof square into his face, he would be just out of the way.