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02-11-2013, 06:52 PM
 The little roan saw them, followed them with her keen gaze, guarded herself - though surely she knew that such actions were pointless against this duo. No amount of preparation could prevent the brothers from their purpose, not if they truly intended on accomplishing something. Laughter as deep and unforgiving as a landslide continued to rumble about their chests, and it was mocking laughter, cruel and unkind. It quietened down as the maiden spoke, just enough so that her words, which were strained to be polite, could be heard. Then that deep rumbling began again, but it was less cruel now, less insinuating. The brothers were alive with the chaos in the air, they wanted to perpetuate it further; but they didn't wish to cause harm, not truly. "Beautiful isn't the word I would use." The brother named Madyrn spoke, his voice as rough as his laughter, his position to the left of the little roan. "You'd likely pick something stupid, like glorious" Maskan's dulcet tones dripped from his mouth in quick reply, the bickering a common occurrence between the brothers, the words harsh and spiteful, but laced with a playfulness that spoke leagues of their utter devotion to one another. "Not as stupid as darling," the one with crimson forelegs commented, an orange eye rolling about his skull to fall upon the little blue miss with a critical edge. "Now that I can agree with." The somewhat smoother melody of Maskan hummed again, as both brothers made their circles smaller, their muzzle within a neck's reach of the mare's soft, plush hide. The brothers were anything but darling, to anyone. As if they were performing a practised dance, both steeds somehow found each others sides again, and no longer circled the little maiden. Their bulky forms stood before her, Madyrn slightly to her right, Maskan to her left, their eyes peering at her menacingly. At least now their predators gaze did not encircle her completely anymore - she could take her leave of them should she wish, assuming they decided not to follow her with hasty steps. "What are you." They spoke in synchrony, the words coming out more as a statement than a question, and yet they stood before her, awaiting an answer. Was it a test? And what would the outcome be if she failed? What if she passed? Of course it was a test. Life is a test. larfsalot.deviantart.com |
