.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
From behind him, Crowley could hear the Pegasus speak up, her voice beginning to sound quite a deal more nervous than previously. A grin tugs at his face again, and dropping his head back to its normal set, he turns to face the mare, giving her a sharp look of warning. Gone is the look of faux kindness in his eyes, the false sense of hope in his voice; now, he shows his normal self, the one that would love to watch the Pegasus crash and burn... Literally. "Oh, lovey, you're not going home; you can leave once we've had our fun, or when you're dead." He allowed a moment to pass then, simply watching the obsidian mare's reaction before he readies himself to forcibly move her along again. If it were necessary, he would strike out at those precious wings of hers before she could attempt to ascend into the skies above. But before he could get the chance to do so, the sound of a honey rimmed voice alerts the brindle that his dear Empress had arrived. Swinging his hind-end around so that he stands vertical with the mare, never once pulling his attention from her, he gave a dark chuckle. Oh, how he loved Psyche... She was a great leader, a fearsome friend, and he simply adored the way she spoke to those lesser than them. He didn't miss her wink, and the sight of it only caused his grin to spread dangerously. Casting his gaze back to the Pegasus, he spoke again, body rigid and ready for her to try something. "I thought you might like it; but I'm not too sure who deserves the first hit. I thought you might like to have the honor, or maybe our dear General if he's feeling up to it... What do you think?" |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
