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It appears the mare is in some way or another daft. When others cringe at the stench and mere sight of my form, she has remained. What good does she think can come out of comforting my tortured soul? Why does she bother to tell me her name, does she expect me to do the same? I am tired but not gone; the fire I lack without my companion has still left its traces in ashes. Her tone, the way she walked so close... as if I am a child needing mothering. It is the greatest insult I have ever felt. I hate little more than I hate mothers. I know nothing of my childhood but that; the crashing of my own mother's hooves towards my face and the flash of light as my neck snapped in two. That will be my image of a mother forever, it is unshakeable. Any that tries to treat me with comfort now, as if I am a child... I will see them as little more than a murderer. She grows too close, asks too much, and instantly I lash out. In this form I am weak and powerless, if I want strength it will have to be as my other half. I rear as a colt and stand as a stallion, letting my magic flutter over me in waves of illusion. I fall, and daggers sharp enough to kill hit the cave floor with a resounding, echoing crash. "I fear nothing, mortal!" comes my warning cry. I know her name but I refuse to use it. Few in this world are worthy of direct address, and she is not one of those few. My figure flutters in and out of beauty and death as my mind falters and returns to you. Oh, what I have done to you... I cannot bear the thought of it. My despair turns to rage and the rage focuses on the unwitting and unlucky mare in the form of fiery eyes and a look betraying the intent to kill. But not innocent, no, she is not innocent. There are no innocents in this world. [[Heads up, he's a unicorn, not an equine. :3 WC: 357]] |
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please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
