Everyone has a story. Everyone has a history. Everyone is a package, so everyone has their price. Some prices are material objects, others are more metaphorical objects, and the best type of payment, is indeed emotion. Yet, some emotions are detoured, like lust. There is always that one person that thrives on curdled emotion. That one person that makes you tingle with hate, or twitch with sourness. Easily, this mare would place Prometheus in this spot, but maybe it would change in the series of events that would lead up to the big switch. This mare knew not of the plague, but of the racist that thrives in the Aurora Basin. Soon she'd be a Plague mare herself.. That is if everything panned out. Valentine, the bleeding stallion around the corner of the evergreen trees, had the power to change it all. All he would have to say is, "The supermacist unicorns called The Plague live here", but the real question is...

Would he?

I heard a voice, but not any voice. A voice of death itself all wrapped up in the sour words of death. I emerge into the bright light from the evergreen forest. I had come from a peaceful slumber in the dark bowels of the emerald forest. My mane had a few of those green spikes that were supposed to be leaves, stuck in my hair. The metallic oder of the crimson liquid was strong. The scent flooded the area so easily which led me to believe it was a large animal, maybe as large as a horse. The bright sun burning my eyes as my pupils adjust to maintain the amount of sunlight that enters them. I see it all. As my vision clears, I see two stallions. One probably dead and the other taunting him. I walked up to the bay that was taunting.

My voice, clear as day rings through the air. "Who is he? Are you not going to held the lad? Do you just want to watch him suffer and die" A slight tone of panic rose in each word I spoke. My emotions clearly stated confusion. Maybe the cherry bay had a good reason. Still, I wanted to help. I wanted to drop my muzzle and move the strange looking stallions face away from the puddle. "Would you really kill him when you can so easily help him?" I let one audit point to the body and the other to the bay. I listened for the sounds of breathing. I was so easily molded, this situation could change me forever, but it'd have to be a good reason. I wanted to know the reason. Turning my cranium, I look at the white horse. "Are you OK? Where do you come from?" Her sweet voice changed to steel as she spoke the second sentence. She wanted to know just for his safety measures.