PIRATE

A noise echoes in the still of night and the golden is drawn up high to listen. Just because the blue mare was to be about doesn’t mean she was the only one here. If one of his own herd mates found him outside with a prisoner it might be explained, but it also might not. Especially if it was a patrol. His worry was without cause though, as the electric figure slips into the small realm of his visibility. A smile brashly lifts on his face as he moves aside to show her the half exposed stallion below him.

The golden was in fact rather proud of himself. This whole venture was one he kept a very conscious mind of. WHATCH, as the blue bird had called it, was to be a group against injustice, and he had caused some of the greatest. Ever since he had loosely joined in with this mare’s fight the golden had been wary. It wasn’t that he did not feel threatened, not yet, but he also didn’t feel particularly close either. And that was a problem. If he began to feel threatened, it would be too late. So he needed to be closer, to be valued and needed. What better way that to singlehandedly deliver someone from the clutches of a most vile and unjust imprisonment.

Unfortunately it didn’t exactly get understood as such. He stood rather proud, head held high and smile gently resting, very pleased with himself, but the thunderhead was not impressed. Her tone cuts across him, and his face falls with irritation. Teeth grit and harks pin back. “You fool.” He spat, uncontrolled for a moment. He was quick to regain his restraint though. Trying to get closer, to be needed, had little room to sink his teeth in her flesh for her ignorance. Pity.

The golden, ignoring her for a moment to remind himself of why this important, reaches over and pulls off his precious cloak. Not that he dared place it on himself. After being on that dirty sweaty creature it was likely to have some disease. The gold pushed it in his satchel, he’d air it out later. Finally he turns back to the blue bird. “That is Diesel. A prisoner of the Basin.” His tone was flat, and certainly less humored than before. Still it wasn’t as harsh as before. Honestly he shouldn’t have judged so harshly. If this girl was willing to trust him then some other ideas probably also escaped her mind. Once again the golden was underestimating.

The gold reaches down and grabs at the rope in the snow and pulls at it. The ghost figure wavers but slowly rises, and the golden slips the vine off once he does, tossing it to the ground and kicking snow over it, speaking again as he does so. “You want to free the world of injustices, here ya go. Slipped out of his cell in the dead of night before his assured death for a crime of little care.” He turns back to the blue mare. “I don’t care what you do with him, but he needs to be off these slopes by morn to escape his fate, and I can not take him.” Mostly because he didn’t want to put that much effort for something so trivial and meaningless as freeing another. Don’t forget this is the golden you’re talking to. The crowned head shakes his head. “Dead weight.” He haunted a laugh. “I’m surprised at you Ampere, did think you’d change morals so quick.” He teased, his smile slipping back on. After all the fun of being a double timing sneaky bastard was too contagious to contain.





"TALK TALK TALK"
OOC::Permission given to PP Diesel