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"It does not matter what happened to her, only what will." His dark voice chimed as he stepped from the shadows. His mismatched eyes danced from the boy to the woman who lay, helpless and cowardly, at his feet. A malicious glint flickered in those mismatched eyes, his long, well-muscled legs drawing him closer to the scene and desire of death. The mare does not deserve life--she is weak and fragile, easily bendable to the will of nature. Abraham is the hurricane that will drown her, break her, destroy her. Gwyneverre--nearly trembling with the intense emotion and desire that surged through her bonded into her white frame--hissed darkly. "Today, you will learn." Abraham nearly snarled, though he was not angry at the boy, he was angry at the weakness in the unicorn below. She had let the world overcome her, let some mercenary take a shot at her, and she deserved only to have her life taken away from her fully.
Quickly, the hefty colt surged forward, his hueless dragon jumping from his crown to glide around the female. Abraham throws his white, feather-covered hooves towards the female's head, attempting to bash her skull in where she lay. The near two year old showed no mercy as he continued his assault, his hooves smashing wildly down in an attempt to squash anything he could. Abraham did not care of the mess he made--blood and ripped sinew would be a mighty fine accessory on his pristine, young body. The white dragon opened her jaws as she neared the female's hindquarters, sending white flames to envelope her. The white bitch aimed to bathe the dying unicorn in hellfire, to rid the world of the evidence of their kill. Abraham would not be pinned as the destroyer that nearly all Helovians were killing themselves to search for; though, in his heart and the eyes of this child before him, Abraham held the power and the glory of this kill.
Abraham the Leviathan. The Angel of Death. The Bringer of Ends.
Continually, the boy lashed at the female, until finally he stopped his rampant kicking. His body was shaking with the thrill of his killing, and quickly his dual-horned head shot down, attempting to stake the female through her chest and straight into her heart. Gwyneverre continued to blast flames along her body, though she was careful not to burn her commander, her bonded. Abraham
So this is the hate I've been born toFull are the tales of the untrue |
table by whit
Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
