V A R A T H
What do they do with your soul? Is it just lying there, busted?

Filth is what coated his charcoal hooves, and the expression on his handsome, pale face soured considerably. What miserable wretch created such a miserable place? The young colt had taken to stalking the distant group of unicorns after Mauja had left them at the borders from the Edge, and now the once proud group was scattered. Still, none of them knew his secret. None of them knew that he was a half-blood, doomed to a life of never belonging to either side. Varath's response? Throw himself into one, become one, and deny his equine bloodline.

However devious the imagined soul, Varath's heart and eyes remained untarnished with darkness. The colt precariously straddled the fine line of darkness and light while tauntingly dipping his hooves in the murky blackness of the wicked. Fear drove him to remain balanced, but he asserted himself like a confident brute, far too young to be taken seriously. A darkly dappled coat dipped in crimson with two, strange colored eyes moved through the muck, slapping his ebony tail at the humming flies. The sound was a cacophony of pleasurable chaos in his head, something to drown out the uncertainty.

Words of another hit is auds and ring with curiosity, and the bold colt shifts through the dense murk like a boy hunting a frog. Innocent and devious. The scene before him was far more adult that he was used to. A long legged, thin, attractive mare catches the colt's eyes first, and he cannot help but stare as her words filter through the fog. They were seductive and entrancing, and he caught like a moth to the flame. The stallion's response was brutal and dark, an image of his appearance taken shape in words. With a horn that long and cruel and eyes that strange, this foul demon had to be the one to emulate.

Not many moments later, brutal horns one a strong body makes his presence known in a crimson bath of beauty. Varath is overwhelmed by the wickedness, impressed by the display of violent grandeur. His words too denounce the seductive femme, and heterochromatic eyes blink curiously. Something strange moved the air around him, something frightful and dark. Ebony ears flattened against the arching crest of his neck, able to feel the affects of a draining sensation all too much. Quickly, rounded haunches launched his body to the side, creating a splash in the murk that gave his position away with more flash than his already bright, crimson markings.

A nervous snort escapes darkened nostrils, and he eyes the bay with a silent question. What is going on?