Soft. Her voice is so unexpectedly soft, my ears strain to recognize it as hers. This kind of tone may never be heard again, a rarity for her to offer a moment of vulnerability. It seems so uncharacteristically genuine, this welcoming warmth. Where I've become used to the devoid, harsh tones that taint her lips, so much so that this is rather off putting (and weird). If the words weren't enough, the smile definitely was. It spreads from her lips, corners upturned and eyes brightening as she gazes up at me. The quiet grey of her eyes lightens as she grins, and as much as I'd love to take a minute to poke fun at the genuine emotions expressed from her, my lips remain sealed. She'd probably beat the shit out of me anyway (or make flowers grow out of my ass).

The smile splits across my face, even as the cold words melt from her lips and the momentary tenderness falls apart before me. I almost (almost) miss those three sweet seconds of emotion, of more than salted syllables (meant in an almost friendly manner)— but no, the favoured moments of peace are washed away (to be forgotten). The sarcasm returns, insults pouring in to fill the silence. "Hey— I wasn't the one getting sappy, it was definitely you." I mimic a gagging sound, looking to the onyx filly in false disgust. "I'm not trying to get all touchy feely right now, especially with you." My nose wrinkles up and I manage to (very briefly) hide my grin. Beneath the harsh words is a sense of (what is this?) friendliness, an awkwardly foreign feeling that makes me realize that I'm lacking in the "friend" department.  Over the months I've walked this earth, I've neglected to gather any friends, having a wonderful sum of zero. Zip. Zilch. I ain't got shit, completely on my own

Zhu, well, he doesn't necessarily count. We're bound in blood (even if we didn't realize it originally), we have no choice. We're also natural born competition— from the moment we were born we were set on a path leading to kinghood (to glory, to power), an unspoken competition between us. Using our resources, we barreled towards victory (neck and neck), desperate for the success of domination. Maybe once upon a time we had a chance to become powerful companions (perhaps we still do), comrades to rule side by side with iron fists and steady hands. Zhu is no friend of mine.

But this girl (Queen Bullshit, her royal bitchiness), could perhaps be considered something close to that of a friend (for are we truly friends?). The question brews, wondering if this little shit could have a chance at becoming a friend of mine one day, if we could come to terms with one another and live in temporary peace. Probably not. Perhaps we'll stay just like this, with our sarcastic comments and shitty insults, making fun of one another in tandem (maybe we'll grow into cranky old horses together).

Somewhere, a vast emptiness wells, expanding in the corner of my being at the realization of my solidarity. Who was here for me now, who would be here for me later? No one. Maybe there were a few who preached their loyalty, but they only did so because we were brought together through our shared blood (Volterra, Mother, Zhu, Sabre). It was all just me, myself, and I. Maybe I'd like it better this way, where I was distant and destructive, cataclysmic and powerful on my own— I would become the capricious king of an empty kingdom, fated to crumbling ruins and a towering ego.  

I can't relate to the exit only comment (what can I say, I've got a future full of magical mind blowing sex), instead just nodding my head along to her words (sure, Jan). Obviously at this point, sex is just something I know about (thanks, Mother)— it's a foreign concept that just seems so unappealing. I don't want to put that anywhere (no fucking way).

"He knows what's up. Shit, that's so much cooler than mine!" Damn, my magic looked like jack shit compared to Queen Bullshit's— she made a static horse for fuck's sake. All I could do was kick rocks at high velocities and hope they did something useful. "Are you the one controlling it? What else can it do?" I watch the sizzling skin carefully, bubblegum trained to follow the movements of the magic equine as it pranced along beside its summoner.

"Talk."

kid

run my reputation.