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Weakness. He is weak, deserving of worse, perhaps like my son who I blinded for back-talking- a good idea, in fact, for Tajheri. But Tajheri I had always been fond over for that reason, for sometimes it is nice to hear a son's voice not quiet with respect. He's disgusting, Kipp, and I wonder how I and Emerson sired something like this. Where did I go wrong? No, I hardly ever do wrong- it must've been Emerson. He deserves a punishment, as does Wilder, for Wilder failed me, and Emerson was more than just an hour late.
My teeth come down, crushing the soft tissue with fond delight at causing pain, but also bitter disappointment. Kipp failed me. What have my sons become? Weaklings, fools? He deserves so much worse. He bellows, and I clench tighter on the tissue- he is weak, not being able to hold in the pain. There is blood stinging my tongue, and then I release the ear, right as he jumps away, nearly crying the colt is.
One of his forelegs nearly hit me, but I remain unyielding as a hoof nicks my neck. "You disgust me Kipp." I growl, tail flicking across my gray flanks. "You are weak. Pathetic. You must learn to contain yourself. In battle, not one single horse will give you quarter should you not be able to hold in the pain." He wails like a kitten whose tail has been stepped on, and I listen without pity to his complaints. "Grow up Kipp. There is no place for you by my side, or in this world, if you keep acting like such a fool. And do not ever accuse me of being the cause of your troubles." He already knows the only way out of being my son, I should hope.
That is death or maiming beyond being a horse anymore.
So he better learn quickly, or he will be reduced to something with ears gone and tail shorn, eyes blind and nose torn. And he will wish I had killed him right away. But him, speaking of Emerson... "Where is your father, Kipp?" My voice remains chilled, but the imminent threat is gone from it. Yes, indeed, where is Emerson? Were all my sons gone together?
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