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10-07-2014, 08:24 PM
The bellowing of the other Legatus is just what I need in the middle of the rage that possesses me. If I only had fangs and claws and could tear into the next beast that got in my way. Alas, I am only equipped with my horns on my head that tend to miss more than they hit. My hooves stamp the ground of the island, cracking earth around them as my magic flares up, inspired by my fury. My most recent loss to the stallion from the Threshold has left me less than cheerful. He seemed so inexperienced by rage and I had thought that his irrational fury and accusations would have left him an easy target. But no - though we both walked away from the fight I was the loser. Sons of bitches.
Listening to Oxy now calling to us all makes my blood boil even more than usual. I don't want to deal with the stoner who opposes me at every turn. My piss poor attitude can't be seen in my pale eyes, but my movement lays it out plain as day that I'm not to be fucked with. As I approach him, I see another has appeared. Agrona. Damaris trots along behind me, ears pinned back and body nearly as tense as mine. My mood has seeped into hers and left us both fouled. My nostrils flare as I pull up not far from the pair. We stand a few yards off, and Damaris raises her hackles at both mare and stallion, daring them to cross us. I don't bother speaking to either of them. Is this my drink's fault? Or am I not drinking enough? I'm not sure what the right course of action is and should I even get involved with the idea of drink right now? I'd rather slaughter.
Rostislav
more than a drunken fool
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*You may do anything you wish with Rostislav excluding dismemberment and death.
