d'Artagnan

the

NightShade

During the wait his mismatched eyes zoned in on a dot on the horizon that steadily got closer to him over the passing of time. Soon it was close enough for him to make out the familiar silver on black, those haunting wings and his eyes that shone like hers. As he observed his son he noted that there wasn’t much of Mesec that was reminiscent of his father and perhaps only his build of Arab and Hanoverian made him look like d’Artagnan. It was the shade’s typical stamp on his progeny, a well-sculptured and almost delicate face to go with long legs and a strong, short neck. The Moon and Kou had shared similar breed traits leading to all of the General’s children turning out in ways very much alike. For a long time, the red had viewed Mesec as his biggest mistake, a lapse in strength as he fell to the charms of a Goddess that had led to her leaving a tiny foal at his feet, with ugly wings and her silver marks all over him. She had even managed to mark him in the moons ominous colour. His flank flaunted the permanent kind of dancing half moons against a red sky. What if they had seen more of each other? Would he have eventually turned into a silver horse like one of her stars in the sky? Were all the stars in the sky her lovers once upon a time? He shuddered.

However, the last time he’d seen his demi-god son was when he had been facing down monsters to save a dragon. He had looked like something out of legend… More like a God than a mortal. Memories turn back to the days he had thought he loathed the child when instead he had hated himself. d’Artagnan had never hurt Mesec, he had even helped him to contact his mother at one point in time and it was in those moments that he felt more like a son than a mistake. Finally, on seeing him face down those monsters d’Artagnan had realized that Mesec had become much greater than he and a small moment of happiness filled his heart. At least the boy appeared to suffer little now he had reached adulthood. He had done quite well considering both his mother and father were murdering schemers.

"Mesec" he nodded to his son as he noticed how the boy lingered back from him. Aramis returned at that point, creeping in to stand beside the shade and take a look at the stallion he once knew as a young colt. "Don’t dither over there, I’m not going to eat you" he groaned as he touched the mental bond to his companion "look what I’ve done" d’Artagnan lamented.

"You know how different you were, don’t act regretful now" the hellion complained in response.

The Nightshade conceded. Aramis was right. Mesec had never been much like him, or his younger half sister Aviya for that matter, the red had learned that the two never got on that well. Sacre was much more like Mesec, always disappearing until one day he never came back. It appeared his children either went extremely left or extremely right. "Where do you dwell now? Have you been well… Since the dragon?"

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@[Mesec] omg that picture bahaha that’s brilliant xD <33
FANKS SON!

Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.