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07-23-2014, 10:14 PM
Arvakl This brute is giving me a run for my money and goddamnit if he isn't driving me nuts in the process. He's playing hard to get, like any coy female. I should make fun of him, insult his masculinity. A proper emasculation might be just what needs to happen, but the direction of our conversation has not led us that way, and it seems improper (am I proper, really?) for me to start down that path now. I think for a second that I've gotten his attention, that perhaps there's a chance that I've gotten him hooked. But as soon as I demand his name the look on his face changes, and I see I've played the wrong card. I turn my head away, as if being coy myself, and roll my eyes. This is becoming more effort than is really worth my time, and I've already put so much time into it! He chuckles, enjoying this coyness, and is quick to keep his name from me, acting as if I should maybe jump through a couple hoops and perform a couple tricks for him to give it to me. No, sonny. I'm not playing that game, and you're going to have to accept it. You don't take to demands, and I will not be your marionette. I sneer at him and spread my wings, the pink feathers ruffling in the wintry breeze. I'm afraid I won't. I tire of this game and you are no longer worth my time. My gaze turns from soft and warm like heated, rich molasses, to something hard, unfeeling, and ruthless. No. No interest at all. I kick up some of the snow with a front hoof and toss my head, tail swinging with growing irritation. Without another word I turn in a 180, trot a few steps, a few canter strides, and my wings have taken me off the ground and out of his reach. Ha - not much you can do now, you wingless rat! And like that, I am gone. Walk. Talk. I'm so FANCY |
Plot Thread
*You may do anything you wish with Arvakl excluding dismemberment and death.
