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Am I? "Yes," says the gelding, studiously oblivious to the stallion's sarcasm. Surely he's noticed he's pink by now? Pink and delicious-smelling. Badger's nostrils gape wide, drinking in the sugary-sweet aroma of something he just wants to sink his teeth into. The pink one struggles helplessly against the snowdrift and Badger wants to offer his assistance, but isn't entirely sure how to do so without accidentally taking a bite out of him. So he simply stands, somewhat awkwardly, and watches. "There's nothing wrong with pink," the black hastens to point out. "It's just not, uh, a colour you commonly see on horses." Then again, this is Helovia, where horses have horns and wings and flying dolphins and flame-stags and snakes and antlers and spiky plants and magic...is a pink unicorn really so far-fetched? He drags in a deep breath, and again his senses are assaulted with sugary sweetness. Where's it coming from? Logic tells him that, despite what he thinks, it isn't coming from the snow-rolling unicorn. Badger wants it. He hasn't had a treat like that for so long - all wild horses eat is grass, grass and more grass. No oats, no bran, no sugar, no mints. Barbarians. "Where's that smell coming from?" he questions, extending his muzzle to sniff all around the pink unicorn. It can't be coming from him, can it? That just defies all logic. "I'm Badger," he adds as an afterthought, because he won't let sugar and pinkness ruin his manners! He fixes the stranger with his gentle hazel eyes, which are only slightly darkened by the only lust he's ever been able to feel - the lust for food. |
@[Johnny]
