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But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
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The returning bump to the shoulder was well-met, as were the words of his brother. "Nothing outside the usual," he offered with a mischievous grin. Erigor would know what he meant: he had bedded down in several herds, just passing through. In each, he had found a mare (or, in some cases, mares) that caught his attention, a bauble in a shop window as he strolled by. He flirted incessantly, or course, as was his nature, and had he thought of it, he would have hoped he didn't break any hearts in the process. As it were, he did not often spend time reminiscing on his role as a womanizer, and so he did not worry for the feelings of those with whom he played his little games. He was not an unkind stallion, but he was, perhaps, a bit self-absorbed. "There was a herd I came across, a few days hence," he remembered suddenly. "They were... what's the word... matriarchal. Their leader was a mare." He snorted his derision. "It's quite odd, don't you think? I've never heard the like. A mare, a ruler? Bah." Presumptuous, perhaps, but then, that was his nature. He loved females, in their place. He would not do well to be ruled by one. That was not their way, not their custom. The stallions ran the world; the mares raised the family. At times, they could rule together (rarely, but it had happened, in the legends), but never would the female simply take control. It was unheard of. "She wouldn't even let me flirt with the girls," he continued ruefully. Such a simple-minded fool. "Where do you think we are, brother?" |
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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
