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11-01-2012, 05:25 PM
Bacchus, bless his poor soul, did not know what to do. Should he walk swiftly away from the unicorns back to lovely mistress Sno, or stay and converse with his herd? Correction: Sno's herd. Funnily enough, Bacchus, or Rapha as Sno called him, was soaked in Sno's scent. He had given himself back to slavery, but that did not mean he didn't regret it, nor did it mean he liked slavery. It was undetermined. The shaggy little horse was trotting, anxiously and nervously, but in no way trying to run away from the Ice Princess. All too quickly, he could see the metal wolf bringing him down, teeth crunching into bone, and he could imagine his own screams.
No, he would not run away out of fear.
Yes, it was despicable.
He slowed to a walk, and finally a halt, lingering a couple of feet away, puffing softly, but not daring to speak.
What goes on here, stays here. Lady Sno had told him, and he obeyed.
