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Gaucho was a sweet stallion, but was a warrior. She wasn't sure if he even felt emotions as she did. Though he could become a friend in the future. She just worried that she'd say something and he'd be confused and angry. Was his mind so slow he couldn't even talk properly? She tried using grammar, but she may have confused him. Why had no one tried to teach the stallion proper language and word use?
"Indeed it is, my friend. I however do not have wings." Slowly my body swam towards where Gaucho was. A large teeth smile lay glazed on my maw, frozen. Turning my body so we were most probably parallel, I glance at my spine. Yes, as you guessed, no wings. At first I kind of wanted wing attachments that were charmed so I could fly, but it would've been strange. I could always go to a crafter of sorts and ask them to make them, then go to the gods and ask them to charm them.
Droplets of water cling onto my mane and tail as I then pass Gaucho. Walking towards the shore I shake my femininely dished head. "So, Gaucho, shouldn't you be asleep, perhaps?" I shot another subtle smile at him once my other faded. I don't know, but I was in a good mood right then and there.
I was still becoming racist, and the monster inside of me was coming out. I didn't hate Pegasus and equine, but I think it was are time to shine. The bay warrior in the basin was much like Gaucho, yet oddly different. Well, they were both warriors, pleasant to look at, and approachable. Sadly, Descaro was racist.
"blah blah blah."
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