Pitch of the Year [VOTG Chat Drop]

[OPEN] Pitch of the Year [VOTG Chat Drop]

Albrecht Posts: 249

Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE

Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen

#15

05-16-2017, 01:46 PM (This post was last modified: 05-16-2017, 01:49 PM by Albrecht. Edit Reason: Being nit-picky with myself. :P )

A sudden CRACK and skitter of stone behind him sends the old stallion lurching forward, his leonine tail tucked tight to his hindquarters. Wide emerald eyes turn to find the source of the startling noise, but yield nothing. There is only darkness in front of him and now there’s only darkness behind him too, leaving his mind to fill in the details of their abrupt confinement. Invisible in the engulfing black of the passage, his ears fall limp against his skull, brows peppered with grey pinching into uncertain ^s.

“Wessex?” He calls, expecting the ~~dildo-~~ spikey-headed mare to be nearby, though whether she’s in front of him or behind him is anyone's guess at this point, having surged blindly forward in his alarm. The Corporal’s earlier comforts ring teasingly in his ears, mocking his now genuine concern. "He’s trapped us.”

‘No.’ Argues a familiar voice inside his head. ‘Smell.’ The python urges, so he does, skeptically, lifting his chin and flaring his nostrils with an audible flutter. A few deep breaths help to relax his (thankfully hidden) quivering muscles, but not so much as the quality of the air around him; not close and choking, but cool and thin, palpably open.

Stepping forward brings a resounding chk, the sound of his hooves expanding out in front of him. Turning his head, probably unnecessarily, since he still has no idea where the other Basiner is, he amends himself, "Sounds open here. Another choice maybe?”

Head low, nose thrust ahead of him, the old stallion carefully inches forward, trying to stay as centered as possible as he crosses the unknown open space. Horses just aren't meant for tight spaces, he almost silently gripes, a low noise of displeasure humming through his throat, least of all horses with big ass fucking antelope horns.

"Talk."
OOC // (Wessex tag removed) Albrecht chooses path B.

Albrecht

If all is fair in love and war, I can't do this anymore

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