_{Some say you're trouble, boy Just because you like to destroy All the things that bring the idiots joy} Well, what's wrong with a little destruction?

The grin is easier than ever, a tad more genuine—for he is deeply impressed with himself, amused by these events. It is this indulgence that pardons the spotted Pegasus from her flighty anger and a scent she cannot help, a grudge she does not know. She’s become useful to him, and the chuckle in his throat is stifled behind a handsome, granite mask. There is no reason to laugh in her face—but oh, she speaks a terrible pun, an awful play of words, and the glee slips from his throat, tiny wisps that are lost in the Birdsong breeze. He is laughing at her adorably, painfully terrible joke. He grows accustomed to this game.

Blue Reyna, her of dragon scales—she confesses herself a nomad, expresses interest in his knowledge of the wilds beyond. He dips his head to her—grey eyes flash, wondering briefly, in a heady and boyish sort of inspiration, if he could play the game with this one as well? She speaks sense—her passion’s cold and level, but there’s still a gash underneath her tail, a gash he finds himself sorely aware of. Mares are crucial, and he does not know why. “You’re welcome to it, later, if you should wish it,” he says; words become smoother to him, easier to speak. He does not rasp anymore, there is no sickness on his breath, weakness in his vowel and his tongue. It’s so easy, so spectacular; he swells from inside, enjoying this, falling in love with himself more, and more, and more.

“However,” he continues, his eyes flickering back to Rei, “I find myself just now more interested in a place I’ve never seen before, myself.” The question of a herdland crosses his mind—the detestable situation of living in a swarm of others, in their hot bodies, their horrid stench and unworthy shit piling around him, disgusting, lesser. He cannot fathom his father’s need in protection of so many others; he cannot forgive his father’s lack of a care for his missing mother.

Could he do it? Stand to live amongst strangers in a land that must be shared, drink from a pool or a river where so many mundane lips have touched—sleep amongst dreaming, useless cannon fodder, partake of the same grass in the same fields? Sweat in the heat with others, bask in the rain to the cries of other, foolish fillies and mares, such as these? Could he ever do something such as this?

Is it necessary?

“I will follow you as well,” he says evenly, almost pleasantly, to Rei. He will….see this land, for himself. Consider its heat, its burning sand and the promises of gorgeous rain. He will ponder it, the idea of a herd land—its necessity in future schemes, and what it would mean to a monster.



@[Rei]
"talk talk talk"