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The God sneered as the almost-corpse spoke of the heart and triumph. Fool. Idiot. What could a lump of reanimated flesh possibly know of the things of which he spoke? Nothing; nothing! Instantly, the god was infuriated as Prometheus referred to Tares as, beautiful mare. The flames which lingered evenly around his wings and horn, suddenly burst to life enveloping his body in a firey blanket of heat. His eyes blazed, as he stared down with a white-hot anger. "TARES" He bellowed, as his flaming body gave one last lurch of heat and fire, before dying down again. Tares was one of his - his! A unicorn, yes, but of the Throat. Not only had the body-corpse cheated his task, but he had done so without evening learning her damned name.
Turning away with a sneer, the God surveyed the land with a cool uncaring gaze. For a moment, it seemed as though he would not speak again - that he would simply cast the pair away. And would that not be fair? His instructions were clear enough, and they had not been followed. And now, the boy was trying to justify his lack of obedience; consequently he was doing a rather piss-poor job of it.
Alas, life was not fair. The colt would get what he wanted, even though he didn't deserve it.
With a cruel chuckle, his firey gaze returned to Prometheus, his lip turned upward in disdain. "You speak like they do. The mortals. Do you think you sound clever, philosophizing about death and meaning and life? A gift from the dying" He mimicked, snorting as he spat the words out. "You idiot. Gifts from the dead mean nothing. That's why your task was to take the wings off of the living. A living creature who must bear the guilt and remorse and regret of what they've done. To be able to see you wear their flesh like a cape, and to reflect on what a monster you are. A gift from the dead is no gift at all." Pausing, he turned away again with a huff. "Tares does not live. " He said finally, almost sadly. If nothing else, she was one of his; and he did not like having his things destroyed.
Without looking back at the zombie and his companion, flames once again poured onto the colt's back, enveloping his skeletal and gruesome appendages. The God made no attempt to douse the pain which the colt may have felt, as the wings absorbed the ability to meld into his undead flesh - let him feel it. Tares certainly did.
"Now get." He spat, still not taking his eyes off of the horizon.
[Congratulations! Prometheus can now meld his wings into his body, so that they are unseen when he wishes]
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[P] One with the Flesh [Return-Sun God]
