.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
One man caught on a barbed wire fence
| She came, on purple hooves and long legs. I spotted her far off, but I pretended I did not. They always felt better when they initiated contact, mares. She looked at me with eyes unreadable, and I lifted my head. Her voice was like milk and honey, and it made my stomach turn. Her name swam its way into my head and I shook it some, stomping a smoking hoof. "Eating." I grumbled, leonine tail flicking behind me with my growing agitation. Who was this bitch, and why did she choose to speak to me? There were others in this forest, around me, searching for solace. What did she have to offer me? I lifted an ashy brow, crown raising some above her.
I noticed then our size difference. She was smaller than me, probably weaker. They were all weaker. I am a god. My dark, charcoal eyes narrowed some and my tail flicked again. "What do you want?" There, I asked her. No one could say I did not intend to find out her purpose for pursuing me. Perhaps she had chosen me because she could see me as a god--even through this smokey, ashen body and scars and blood. My tail flicked again. I took a step towards her, thick smog pluming up from my hooves. I smelled her. She did not smell like anything. Just a damned horse. My head tilted some, and my tail flicked. I was coming to resemble the lion more and more every day with this new appendage. I snorted softly. "You are no royalty." I observed, ears flicking down against hard horn and sparse mane. |
image by schwartze@da/tamme
pixel by tamme
