kid

I took notice of the shimmering bronze scales of something I had wished did not belong to her. But there, as she landed, was a metallic dragon who glided onto it's perch upon her back. My stomach dropped and my blood stirred, ivory brows knitting together as I kept my eyes glued to the winged reptile. Why did she get one? I look her over, paying attention to the growths behind her ears and the mangled feathery tumours upon her shoulders. I grunted in disapproval, letting my mind piece together that which I barely knew. 

Dragons were for equines. They didn't bond with others, so why did this one follow her? I look at it, and then back to the girl with her cruelly patterned face, and back again. "You don't deserve that." I answer calmly, flicking back an ear at my statement. She didn't. With such disgusting blood like that, I wouldn't take a second to guess she had forcefully bonded to the companion— could you do that? That's the only reason that makes sense for this pretty thing to be tagging around behind that. She probably stole it from someone unsuspecting and made away in the night, and that made me angrier than just being in her presence. 

I give her a second to register what I said before she speaks up, calling my shot lucky. I look offended almost, but angry too. How dare she said it was a lucky shot. I'll show her who the lucky one is when I get a bullet in her eye! I snort at her comment, furrowing my brows and looking up at her with seething anger. "I'll practice, but I don't need your help to do so." I flicked a glance towards the water ring, secretly trying to avoid shooting for fear of proving the smug mongrel right. I had an excuse! I'd only just gotten this magic. Really it was my fragile ego. 

I looked repulsed (I always did in the presence of such gross things like her—) and shocked that she had the audacity to speak to me like this. That she doubted I would ever be any good at the magic I had, that I would assume I was a natural born wielder of this new power (maybe I did just little bit). "I'm going to get good at it!" I practically yell back at her, looking up into the coffee coloured face with a stern look of disapproval at her doubting my abilities. Did she think she was better than me? ME? (I'm going to be the king you stupid feathered thief!) How dare she!

She asks me a question that really sets me off, my frown deepening and features getting more contorted as I tried to show how smelly and gross she was. "Because you're that." I motioned to her entire being— her entire existence. "Aren't you ashamed? Why, you're probably so sick, you don't even know how icky you are. Has anyone ever tried to get those gross wings off your sides? Don't you want them gone so you can be normal?" I say wings like it's a tabooed word, like the very mention of it might bring Mother to the field to smite me. All in three seconds flat. "And those pointy things! Yuck." I was half tempted to turn my head as if to look at Sabre for back up before recalling that she wasn't there, that I was alone. "Thank goodness no one in my family is like you." I could confirm this because Mother told me that Volterra was an equine too. That brought me reassurance, that I'm not related to anything so diseased like this pitiful girl. It had taken a few weeks to get it out of her though— that was the equivalent of a lot of punishment. Anything related to "father" was a banned topic, one that if Mother even thought we were going to mention she'd go into rage mode and beat us until satisfied that we wouldn't mention it again (Of course I did). I brought it up continually until finally she crumbled and snapped at me, clearing up the topic of at least Volterra's race. 

"Talk."