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07-16-2013, 06:46 PM
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Tonka I stopped at Hestia’s words. He took in a deep breath before turning back around. He could taste the tension in the air as if it was sweet grass dancing on his taste buds. He then realized that it would not be a spar that he would watch, but one he would fight in. He smirked at the dappled brute who did not speak a word but the amount of his rage was displayed on his face like a star on a Christmas tree. Tonka’s ears were now pinned back onto his skull. Suddenly, the dark bay brute looked over at Hestia to see blades of ice sticking out of the ground like the horn on his head right under her, and possibly ripping at her skin. An indescribably fury rose in him. Oh, this little bastard was going to pay. “You fucking bastard pointed knives at new comer!” In a blink of an eye, Tonka’s rump was facing the speckled brute’s face. He swung his hooves off of the ground aiming for the idiot stallion’s head. Oh, such a pleasure would come to him if he felt the impact of the dough boy’s face smashing against his hooves. Again, the brute turned to face his competitor. “You just picked the wrong stallion to fuck with.” A sinister voice erupted with a hard glare was shot at the light pelted brute, and with that, Tonka was sent galloping over to him. His horn was set to drive right into the steed’s chest. He hoped that this move would not be blocked, but even if he did, Tonka’s only intention was to simply show him how it felt to have a blade be pointed possibly jabbed into him. Walking "Talking" Thinking |
