.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
She seethed.
Blood had dried on her lips from the last stallion that thought he could conquer her, but little did he know, she could simper and smirk right up to his neck. She could sashay and sidle like the best of them, better than the best of them. She could pucker and wink as she ripped his black heart right out of his chest. A cruel grin painted her face into a haphazard caricature of joy, her memory brushing over the image of his bloated body in the river.
Face down, just like it should be.
The mare had cleaned herself of the carnage that had splattered her coat, dutifully tending to her matted wings and tangled locks with a sort of loving care that almost made her seem vulnerable.
Almost.
But she had left her lips stained scarlet, for no other reason than to watch others' eyes trail over her immaculate form. To laugh hatefully as their grins slipped from their mouths in disgust. To lord over the discomfort and fear of others just as a lioness must lord over her kill.
Ivory and coral blush painted her form some sort of beautiful, though treachery and self destruction had long ago scattered the ashes of her heart across the desert.
So be it.
She paused for a moment beneath the wide arms of a tree, not bothering to check her surroundings or even swivel an ear. Come what may, Orithia had decided long ago that whatever the world decided to throw her way wouldn't be able to pack a hard enough punch to ruin her more than she herself already had.
Blood had dried on her lips from the last stallion that thought he could conquer her, but little did he know, she could simper and smirk right up to his neck. She could sashay and sidle like the best of them, better than the best of them. She could pucker and wink as she ripped his black heart right out of his chest. A cruel grin painted her face into a haphazard caricature of joy, her memory brushing over the image of his bloated body in the river.
Face down, just like it should be.
The mare had cleaned herself of the carnage that had splattered her coat, dutifully tending to her matted wings and tangled locks with a sort of loving care that almost made her seem vulnerable.
Almost.
But she had left her lips stained scarlet, for no other reason than to watch others' eyes trail over her immaculate form. To laugh hatefully as their grins slipped from their mouths in disgust. To lord over the discomfort and fear of others just as a lioness must lord over her kill.
Ivory and coral blush painted her form some sort of beautiful, though treachery and self destruction had long ago scattered the ashes of her heart across the desert.
So be it.
She paused for a moment beneath the wide arms of a tree, not bothering to check her surroundings or even swivel an ear. Come what may, Orithia had decided long ago that whatever the world decided to throw her way wouldn't be able to pack a hard enough punch to ruin her more than she herself already had.
aaaaand crappy first post! Trying to get the hang of her, but WELCOME ANYONE AND EVERYONE. Fair warning, she will try to fight you. tru story.
![[Image: ypCJIiV.png]](http://i.imgur.com/ypCJIiV.png)
Honestly, kick her ass at any time. Seriously.
Any and all aggressive and non-aggressive contact permitted.
Please no permanent injury or death. We'll get to that part at some point.
xoxo
