The old stallion sits restive on the ground, belly pressed indulgently to the warm slabs of stone surrounding the hot springs, his swollen hocks and knees folded neatly beneath him and hidden behind a splay of auburn hair spread out like an alarming puddle of red over the dark slate. He rubs his nose against one knobby joint, sniffling in the thick humidity. Beside him, his young companion stretches and rolls his limbless body, warming himself from every angle like a ninety nine cent hotdog in a truck stop gas station. For several minutes the two simply exist in this state of perfect warmth, two hedonists caught in a moment of peace, and then the old black opens one emerald eye, staring down at the python with a hint of amusement in his too-sharp gaze. "So you don't like turkeys, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, both parties already knowing the answer and knowing the point of the question is not to learn, but to tease. The stallion grins impishly and the snake rolls his head away from the elder, wishing he had arms or pupils or anything with which to give the old man a taste of his own churlish behavior. The stallion grins even wider for the surge of temper and embarrassment leaking through their bond, reaching out to nose at the python with karmic glee. As much trouble as the young companion has given him since hatching, with his periodic episodes of itchiness leading up to the unsettling process of shedding his own skin and his newfound obsession with constantly popping boners and compelling the old stallion to assuage their urges with whatever poor bastard happens to be around at the time - not that any of his latest conquests could be described as unpleasant, after the fact - he relishes this opportunity to give the little serpent a taste of his own medicine.

"Oh c'monnn," He drawls, "Is it the raptor feet? The beady eyes?" He gestures with one front leg, unfolding and dragging the outstretched hoof across the smooth stone with a drawn out schhh, then jerkily cocking his head this way and that, eyes and ears held stiff and unmoving. It's not a bad rendition of turkey behavior, but certainly not as good as it suddenly becomes then. With a shimmer of light his anatomy morphs from four legged to two, from bearded to, well, less bearded, and the threadbare patchwork of his ebony hide swirls into layers of cream and coffee colored feathers. The snake recoils instantly, too startled to even hiss, though his mouth hangs open and threatening.

The stallion snorts, though it comes out more as a chirrup, since turkeys don't have the fleshy nostrils to produce an equivalent sound. He doesn't feel any different, but when he drags himself upright and stares down at what should be chipped, unhealthy hooves it's talon ended raptor feet he sees instead.



"Talk."
OOC // Using :: [ Magic: Light | Illusion that seems to transform Albrecht into a turkey ]