Satanic Silk

When she notices my approach, I see the tension visibly leave her body and the motion of her steps becomes easier, simpler, more carefree. Silas lands on her body, taking up his usual roost. I extend my nose to meet hers, my eyes and body softening as hers does. No matter the troubles that plague us, having her in my life soothes me in ways that nothing else does. Still, there's no doubt that something is on her mind. And when she speaks, it's without the normal glimmer that lights the fire in my heart. Gaucho the Wildfire? I nod when she mentions him, following the story until she mentions the Gallant. Who.. who is the Gallant? Well.. Midas led the Dragon's Throat. I never met Gaucho before the darkness that came; I knew Midas as the only leader of the Throat. But, putting two and two together, I see that leaves him as Midas the Gallant. Gaucho the Wildfire and Midas the Gallant. All these titles. My title if I could pick one? Silk the Lovestruck. For that is what I am, without a doubt.

My mind turns back to what she says, as she looks at me expectantly. Like any man, sometimes I have trouble following everything a woman says - even if it isn't nearly as many words as I think. She feels.. threatened? I rub her cheek with my muzzle. "I don't know, love. But I will be by your side, no matter what." I try my best to reassure her, knowing that the words that come to mind may not be what really lifts her spirits. "Everything will work out for the best, one way or another, hm?" I hope, still, that I don't say anything wrong. It can be so difficult sometimes…

Cheering up Africa is not in the same stratosphere as the one who comes up beside us. Aurelia. I step between Aurelia and Africa, my ears pinned and my eyes alight. She addresses us both, alluding to the brief and unmemorable one-off affair when speaking to me, and asking Africa to join the Throat. Before either of us can get a word out in response, she's ranting about… I have no idea. Gaucho? Did she catch our words about him? She must have. Her solution: to kick Gaucho out. But why? He has done nothing wrong, and there's no reason that Gaucho should force out Africa, and even so, what if Africa no longer wants to be the leader? Aurelia turns from us. I stand defensively in front of Africa, nostrils flaring as I snort at the bright golden and ivory mare. I offer her no words, but wait, hoping that perhaps she will leave. Nothing good can come of her presence, not in my experience, that's for sure!

hungry for life