R I C O C H E T - - raise your GUN and it's over

Thankfully the dragon did not overreact to the poor decisions made by stallion and dog. The situation could have easily been made violent when it was only a fog that needed to be cleared.

Thought events unraveled quickly the Incendiary felt time nearly halt. The world swayed under him while recognition flickered like a desperate moth in the light of his eyes. First, that it was Evangeline, sweet Evangeline that stood before him. Second, that the orange dragon was her bonded, though thankfully well controlled. Third, that the strange child cowered at her side. And finally, fourth, that she moved to protect it.

That single shift of her body was the same as a finger sliding over the trigger of a revolver. Hot lead slugged his chest while smoke curled around the gun barrel, hissing quietly.
The filly is hers.

Ricochet reeled. Limbs staggered and haunches buckled. The dog whined and pulled back, abruptly anxious by the mood that stained the air. Ricochet only just avoided slipping to the ground, his rump held by the crutch of a tree trunk. A groggy head hung low between widespread legs. It helped to steady the rhythm of his body, in which velocity had spiked.

"Is this?" he managed to groan out after a lapse of silence, teal eyes fluttering at Evangeline's feet, and unfortunately, the additional pair of the girls'. The fact of her horn escaped him now. The knowledge of Evangeline being claimed by another was more than enough to bear, especially after reuniting with her in such a manner, but to eventually understand that she feared for the child's life in his company would break him. His mind shielded him, making him blind to this for now, blind to the horn which would surely drive the bullet deeper into his flesh.

He would not kill her.

Nevermind that Ricochet had not the strength or purpose left to slaughter right now, if ever. Nevermind that Evangeline had due cause to fear him and little reason to trust him, he could not duly blame her for that, but it would hurt all the same.

Aylin took in her a part of Evangeline. In Ricochet's eyes, she was always safe, always beautiful.
Gunslinger had loved his sweet flower, and though she'd born a winged child, Gunslinger had loved that too.
It seemed Ricochet would follow his father's footsteps in the battlefield and matters of the heart.


Licking from the collie brought a gradual calm over the stallion. Evangeline spoke still, so casual, but her voice tight, body tense. Ricochet did not notice, still too overwhelmed by her presence and her child as a whole rather than in detail. He heard her though, even if he did not truly hear her.

"Made it out?" he asked, quizzically tilting his head. 'Brows knitted, confused in various ways by this meeting and that particular statement. Finding no better reason than she was surprised he'd made it out of the fight with Smoke, a bitter and difficult subject for him still, Ricochet was at once wounded in his pride. Teeth set together with a sound, ears tilting back in uncertainty and agony. His tones, once buttery soft and weak had firmed as the boy became defensive. I am wounded still under these scars, so not bother them so.

"Of course I made it out," he snapped, tail flicking in annoyance. Smoke was a fine mare, she'd certainly proved her worth and her skill. Still, she was but a mare, and a healer at that! If not for her dragon the meadow would have been turned. "Did you think I would be so easily felled by such a pathetic opponent?" He snorted, his arrogance rising if only to hide his fear and his weakness. Isn't that what it had always been fore? "It took some time I'll admit... dragon fire is not so easy..." he trailed off, having few excuses that would be impressive or accurate. Shaking the mane from his eyes he stood taller, shooting the conversation back at her if only to avoid such heavy staring at his failures.

"What are you even doing here? Won't the Woodlands be needing their healer?"