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One man caught on a barbed wire fence
| I did not have much time to converse with the pink and purple painted woman before something, a cretin stepped in and started running her mouth. My lips tightened and I swung my thick, horned head to look at her. She was tiny, dainty, white like a cherub and fat with youth.
I scowled.
She continued to speak.
I moved.
Quickly, and with all of the grace my bulk afforded me, I stampeded forward towards the hybrid bitch. I swung my smoke pluming horns at her, my neck lowered and arched in an attempt to scrape them along her left-most wing, to damage the feathers and tissues I knew to be so precious. I was a pegasus once, after all. My hard, feathered hooves stopped me with a hard thud on the ground and my jaws lifted, neck twisting as I attempted to bite at the white yearling's face.
I hated her.
I hated the World's Edge for birthing such a bastard child.
I hated it all.
I moved.
Swinging my ass in her direction, the pink mare forgotten, I sent out another kick--hard, large hooves just thirsting to hear the snap of tiny canon beneath their blow. Another time, perhaps. I was done with her. Maybe she would have some thick, red lines on her body to remind her to watch her fucking tongue around those bigger, stronger, better than her.
Fuck her Moon Goddess.
I am a god.
I snorted, leaving the two women with no words. I simply flicked my long, lion's tail and walked off into the darkness of the forest. Snow crunched under my feather-covered hooves. Smoke followed me in my wake, thick and choking and ominous.
"Boetius." I called out, finally, nearly a hundred paces off. |
image by schwartze@da/tamme
