“Damn mushrooms,” she was saying as he stood there dumbly watching her, scabbed-over cuts and slashes littering his hide like a web spun by a drunk spider. Why was she even trying the mushrooms? Was she out of her mind? Then again.. it didn't have to be mushrooms that made you mad. d'Artagnan was quite proficient at finding plants that sent you through time and space—his recollection of that night was incredibly hazy, most of it forgotten except a few dim, lingering notions like.. walking through walls. It was the most absurd and illogical thing ever, and he wondered why he kept thinking he'd thought he had. It was just one of those things he couldn't quite shake, and now this worn mare was eating mushrooms. Saying they were tasty. Almost implying she was hallucinating.

Well, he was pretty damn real at least, and if she implied otherwise he might smack her just to show how real he was.

Though, the benefit would have to outweigh the headache. So only if she was really adamant that he didn't exist. Preemptively his ears flicked halfway back as she abandoned her patch of mushrooms and came swaggering over—because there was no other way he could describe it. The flickering of her tail only made her steps seem even more swaying, and with a sinking feeling he watched her approach. He felt like a deer in the headlights, trapped by his own stupidity at ever coming this way and his physical inability to run away. His heart was pounding, just as much from illness as from despair at his fate. Why was it always the mares? What did they see in him? What did they want from him? Even when he was covered in nasty gashes not even a week old, coat matted and eyes dull with fever—as far from frigid and graceful and unattainable as possible, even then they saw something in him, wanted something from him, came swaying over with feline smiles and mysterious eyes andandand... why?! What had he done to deserve this? What had he done to deserve having them fawning after him his entire life, charming him with magic or threatening suicide if they didn't get to bear his children? What God thought it was a funny curse?

He was too tired to move away, so he just stood there, rooted at the spot as she swept her dancing hips to the side, thick tail smacking solidly against his chest. She swept on, continued her infuriating dance around his tattered body, long lashes blinking over vividly blue eyes. He saw it only because he followed her movement, and it was getting harder to doubt her intentions—a tad malnourished or not, she seemed to have energy aplenty. Or, she was just plain cruel, wanting to lure in some foolish man only to tumble him out of her bed.

Well, he wasn't interested—in either scenario. He'd had enough of stupid lovey-dovey encounters, and certainly didn't want to be made a fool of.

Besides, he was probably too sick to manage to do a thing right now.

“What has the panting cat brought to me this time?” A sick old idiot, he thought sourly but said nothing; she prevented him from replying by bumping into him. Mauja staggered slightly sideways with a grunt, his balance not the best and damn but even that small motion tore at every healing wound, pain lancing through his nerves, but fortunately none of the lacerations tore open again. He gritted his teeth. What a jerk this female was, abusing a poor injured stallion this way—and for what? Her own satisfaction and glory?

And her inconsiderate treatment of him continued. As she came up in front of him again (trying to tantalize him with the view? he still felt fairly unimpressed) her ample tail smacked towards his face, and he had to close his eyes to not get hair in them. Besides, the motion made him jerk his head to the side involuntarily, setting off an avalanche of heavy boulders falling inside his skull. Through the pounding he barely registered what she said, and it took him a few seconds of standing like that—head turned to the side, eyes pressed shut and the rest of him perfectly still—before the nauseating agony dissipated. "I'm no boy," he finally growled out, too irritated to be polite. "And you're being terribly rude."

[ Grumpy Mau is grumpy :P ]