The day had been a glorious one for the beast. He strode proudly into the Basin's lands a single blue feather hanging from his mouth. A few miles back he had left massive dinner sized hoof marks across the ground, but they were not the normal imprints in soft Earth. The trail had been made in blood. The monstrous stallion usually had more white to his pelt than he did on this day. He had taught a young mare a lesson in manners, and taken a prize for his teaching skills. The feather was his, as well as his child's ticket into the herd. An evil rumbling laugh sounded from the cavernous chest, he had broken the mare, not killed, but mangled. Now she would understand what it was like to be half blind, except, she had a hole were her pretty orb had been. This was the price for mocking his own weakness as well at taunting him.

Once he was well within the lands of his people the stallion stopped. He wanted to scream to show off how triumphant he had been to show he really was worth something to the unicorn's that lived here. Instead Krieger stood still and silently his eyes out over the water taking in the shimmering light. He would soon bathe the girl's blood from his hide, but not yet. He was enjoying his cloak of good fortune. He was glad to have been able to use at least some of his skills, since he had held back so long.

"Devil's Tongue"'Horrific Thoughts'
Words: 257

Standing about the permafrost ground the golden nipped at the abundant tundra grass field. In fact the golden was surprised at how many things were abundant here. Boredom. Herd Regulations. Meetings. Safety. Yep, life in a herd was fucking fantastic. In seeking consolation the golden, Thranduil, assured himself the time would come, once he had proven valuable that he could twist the knife into their backs. It was only a small consolation though, the gold boy sighed as he stepped for new ground. Still, he could not have picked a more wonderful place. The swan which sought to block his entry had shown her weakness in the herd meeting, a terribly independently minded daughter. Yes, helping that child…find herself would be quiet a delightful venture. There was also the curious addition of a winged girl to the herd, walking about and most peculiarly around his lady’s son’s side. Soul hardened in its delight. His lady was not to be trifle with, yet.

So in total the twin horned was looking for…a curiosity. Some entertainment if you will. His lady was still wrapped up in the aftermath of her announcement of festival, so there was not yet time to find a moment with her. It was also too soon to be needling into the sub consciences of his herd members. Time was still needed to gain his security. The golden boy had half hoped to actually meet someone here on this slopped meadow that led down to the lake. Raising that Spanish head the golden boy looked lazily about him. No one was even in the meadow at this time. Did these unicorns thrive of the frozen rocks so much they did not know a pleasant day? The weather was wasting its effort to bring the tiniest hint of warmer weather all the way up here in the mountains. None but the golden seemed to notice. Chewing with the laziness of being half asleep, with hind halfcocked, the golden did not know he was about to get his wish.

The ground shook first. With a snort the golden son came to attention. Hark picked up and spun about, and lips begin to curl. Finally. Curving about to face the lake below the golden easily spied the draft making his way back into the herd lands. Though the creature’s appearance was a little…unsettling. A little bit of blood never hurt anyone’s figure, but this white draft was painted with and sported a mane and tail of blood red to match. It was clear what his profession is, though the recent gore adorning his coat appeared not to be his own. Whatever had happened beyond the mountains, it had been quiet a one-sided struggle. Curiosity peaked the golden boy could not help but jog down to the waterline.

The copper, bitter scent washed over him on the breeze as the twin horned grew nearer. Coming closer he recognized the beast as one from the herd meeting, but now coming closer to him (and coming up alone) the golden slowed to a walk. This brute was BIG. Not many towered over Thranduil but his behemoth did. Coming along the lake side the golden let out a low greeting, though his hark turned back in apprehension. Best tread carefully with this one, for there is no beating him in a brawl. What do we do in front of a mountain we can’t hope to climb in victory? We smile. Walk around it. And claim the same pride as the climber.

Coming to a small halt a few yards away the golden let the easy smile grace about him. He hid his own tension at the thought of mentally tackling this brute by citing the fellow was of the Basin. The thought did little to ease him. He hoped the creature would be like the one he had met outside the Rotunda, Gaucho, a brute to be sure, but also a little slow with words. Nodding the twin horned head in greeting the golden then noticed the blue feather. That feather came not from a bird. Thranduil had little experience with pegasi, and none of them exactly pleasant, but he knew their feathers when he saw one. Judging by the blood on the cream coat before him the victim was missing a tinge more than a feather. He was supposed to be on the draft’s side though, remember? Letting the grin slip a bit Thranduil questioned “I hope the other does not bear your blood on their coat as well.” Then he smiled back, “I see you have the prize though, so you must be the victor?” Nodding to that poor blue feather gripped tight in the oaf’s jaws. If he was like any typical winner that was all the brute would need to spill the story. Blood and guts did not suit the golden palate, but information did.

Oh but manners, manners. There was more to this creature than who’s blood he wore. “I do not believe we’ve met, Thranduil, at your service.” The grin returned, it always did.

OOC :: How the heck did it get this long!? Lol Anyways, so excited to see how these two do.
"speech"

Oh dear. Oh me.
What is this I see?

His foal would be allowed to live here now he had proven his worth. 'I must find a way to wear this badge of honor.' The beast pondered silently and his memories were drawn to his Lady Illnyx. He was sure he had seen feathers in her flowing locks, but where did he have to go to find someone to attach the pretty teal feather to his scarlet mane. He imagined the new look of fear he would draw forth from his victims when they saw is prize. What should have been a beautiful expression only twisted his features into a look of the best oxymoron he could ever imagine. The purest of evil was stretched over his hulking face drawing his bloody lips up exposing his white chompers. He was defiantly a sight to behold, massive, covered in blood, and holding a stolen feather. His smile was far from a tender one of a mothers, or even a descent father's. He was far from descent for that matter, there was no way the stud would or had ever been nice. If he had only known how wrong that really was the Beast might have been sick with the thought.

Harks rose as a call rang through the air causing his massive head to spin around. There was no fear present in the blood cloaked beast. The one sunflower eye moved over the golden coat, two horns (much like is own single dagger), the odd long tail, and his disappointing height. The smile on his face turns to something less threatening, a slight smirk. Krieger lowered his head carefully depositing the feather between his massive fore hooves. His thunderous voice rumbled forth, "I bear no marks besides her blood." He assumed that would answer the question he had posed. The single working eye carefully sized up the golden boy. The Beast dipped his head, but only slightly before rumbling his own voice, "I am Krieger. It's always nice to meet a fellow herd member." He watched the odd stud unsure of why he was really there. His hide was not nearly as blemished as his own so why was he asking of the battle Krieger had just had with the mare?

"Devil's Tongue" 'Horrific Thoughts'
Words: 371 @[Thranduil]

Scent of blood and sweat rummaged the clear air of the Basin and those thin nares twisted in place. It had been ever so long since the smells, and tastes of battle registered in the golden boy. The gore never suited him, but oh that tinge of a challenge he secretly craved. It was awakened in this moment, in remembrance. You see battle as physical. Mechanical pulsations surging electricity in the air. He sees it through different lenses. The gold dusted eyes see putting the mind in action. Words become movements, and all was out in the open. Know the horse, win the spar. It’s why he could pound those repeat offenders into the ground, he knew them. Yet that was a long time ago. Now the gold boy leaned on words far too much. Remembering his thoughts oh so long ago to begin training anew, the gold was distracted momentarily. Low barreling voice interrupts him.

A her? He brutally tore apart a her? If he bore no marks then this fight was looking a tad unfair. Now Thranduil was no chivalrous knight but damn. Gold brow raised, hoping the beast would take as an impressed move. One showing congratulations. When it really just questioned the brute’s sanity. You could hit a girl, but when it comes away like this, well, there are questions to answer. And of course there was that feather. The gold knew racists ran about like rats in the mountain hole, but he also knew, from Illynx they were meant to be under cover. He smiled as the beast continued, but it was not in greeting, but in calculation. He was no fair judge by any means, but that golden boy loved to shake big white and red mountains down. The poor girl was going to get some justice, not that she’d ever know it. On top of that, it was only a side effect. No, the twin horned’s primary feature was to stir a little bubbling cauldron in the Basin. Lucky for his lady it might be in her favor this time, again a happen stance.

Information is a lovely thing, but it can be devilishly tricky to get if the victi-subject happens to be taller, stronger, and every single way bigger than you (though Thranduil wishes it to be noted for his pride’s sake he carried a horn more than the draft). He also wasn’t covered in blood. But this one was already wary. That stallion looked with a hint of suspicion, as if unsure how to proceed, and the awkwardness of it settled between them. If you need something from someone, well, above you, best not let it get too uncomfortable. “Agreed” Came the smooth assurance and smile, though it was hard to pull off when looking up. Think, quick. He followed his pattern, please with words, praise, then get what you seek. “I see now why the Basin name is revered. You do it a great service.” Ease the tension, let him relax. A chuckle from the gold chest, “I’m glad we’re not enemies, I don’t think it would end well for my hid.” There, maybe he’d like that praise, maybe now we can slip this in? “The feather is a proud prize. Tell me, what did the silly bird say to cost her that which you wear on your coat?” He grinned, letting the devilish sparks seep onto his lips. “I do love a good story.” Especially one that will be the teller’s downfall.

OOC ::
"speech"
@[Krieger]

I'm not much for guts and gore,
But please, oh please, tell me more.

The alabaster and scarlet stallion watched the almost dainty golden boy with growing dislike. He was clearly not all that pleased with what Krieger had managed to do, if he didn't like it the male could leave. As the silence stretched he grew tired of the male and waiting for him to speak of something. Carefully the Beast lowered his head slowly searching for a rock that would hold his prize in place. He scoffed at many tiny pebbles before grasping a large flat rock in his whiskery grasp. Turning his massive dagger mounted cranium he carefully lowered it onto the pretty blue feather. He had to admit that the feather was pretty, even if the mare he had taken it from had been an annoying little wench. With his head still lowered he turned his bright sunflower up towards the stallion allowing his blood caked red mane to fall over his clouded yellow eye before straightening up. In his mind it had been a clear threat almost daring the smaller male to touch his trophy.

He cast one last look upon the male before moving his powerfully muscled body towards the water. He knew it would be cold and welcomed the chilly water. He strode slowly into the water, easing his hulking frame into the icy water so he wouldn't be in shock. Moving into the liquid he moved in a semicircle so he was facing the stud again. Something told him the male was not to be trusted, maybe it was his lack of scars or the way he seemed to think to much before he spoke. Krieger could all but feel himself becoming cleaner as the water swirled around his body. It had been amazing to get gory, but it was also nice to be clean again. He lowered his bloody muzzle towards the water taking a large breath of air before lowering his nose into the water to allow the dried blood to re-wet itself so he could rub it off easier. Once he was starting need another breath he reached for his massive leg and rubbing it carefully clean. Pulling his muzzle from the chilly water he snorted any extra water from his nostrils before sucking greedily at the brisk air.

Once he was sure his white fur was white again he strode easily from the water. His rear leg was cramping slightly but he ignored the mild pain barely registering it, all same he flexed it behind him pushing the tight for a second before pulling his leg back under him. Water streamed from his belly and legs flooding the pebbly beach before it trickled back to it's home. The male's voice drew his attention back to him. He waited his patience wearing thin with the silence. He dipped his head at the praise, but it seemed empty to him. His own thunderous voice rumbled forth in a slightly menacing tone, "No it would not end well for one of us." He smirked slightly at the thought of tearing through the pretty golden hide. His single visible eye narrowed slightly and he spoke again, "Tell me, why a male such of your scar-less stature would want to know such a gruesome story?" He waited quietly before answering the question simply, "She was to big for her wings, and noisy." The Beast put extra emphasis on the last word smirking still as he waited once more for the reply.

"Devil's Tongue" 'Horrific Thoughts'
Words: 574 @[Thranduil]

It’s never any fun when everyone is too much like you. No, when others see your game it tends to take away the fun of getting something. So as the white and crimson mountain rolls his eyes over the golden, there is a growing dislike which is rather mutual. As the creature busied himself with washing his coat the cat-like tail flicked back and forth at his hocks. The twin horned always enjoyed a good challenge, healthy exercise for his mind to twist and curve, but this was becoming more than that. There was more tension here than the situation warranted, and once more it was directed at the golden. He could see it with the unease at which the spiral horned brute protected the feather prize. Sharp, harsh, and threatening? Damn. This was harsh. The gold acted as if he did not catch it though. Letting the scalding water hit the wall around his castle. No burns here.

Questions had been asked though. There was still a chance to catch this beast even with such a lovely relationship developing between them. In fact, with his harshness, and high headed physical superiority the golden felt there was even more cause for it. He maybe a couple of hands shorter, but the Spanish gold did not take threats well. You won’t see him puff up. He won’t toss them back. No, he’ll smile and then possibly forget he had a knife in his hand as he hugs you good-bye. So as that white and red oaf smirks down at the twin horned he continues to smile, only you’ll see the corners of his lips twist and grow. Chest chuckles slightly. Oh look what a funny joke you made. Hilarious. You’re just so fucking funny.

Turns out he knew nothing of the golden. The white mountain is just as single track minded as them all. Though he is, the gold admitted, more dangerous. “Some wounds and battles don’t leave physical scars.” Oh that voice was smooth. The gold held back any tones of ‘drop dead’. It took a grand amount of hidden effort though. “Besides, my coat should not tell my philosophies nor should it conclude to having sensitive ears.” Now it was his turn smirk. The blood tassled beast let slip though that the girl had simply been noisy. Gold dusted eyes spark momentarily in a heated pace. Was that a threat? The gold sure hoped it was. Ever the more reason to bring this beast’s world crashing down. Oh he’ll show you that size isn’t everything.

Now where did that pleasant conversation go? To the brute’s answer the gold merely continues to smile. Add this in, no more breaks in conversation. Those didn’t seem to add up very well. “You’re so kind to show her, her place.” Now let me show you yours. Oh but where were we? More questions on that poor dear and her lost feather had not taken them to a particularly happy moment of conversation. So moving on… “Besides that bit of exercise though, how are you Krieger?” The smile never ceasing.


OOC :: So so, sorry for the ridiculously long wait.
"speech"
@[Krieger]

Are your pushing?
Are you testing?
You'll ending up finding,
Your own hid burning.