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11-11-2012, 10:13 PM
It was the crunching of snow, and then a burlesque laugh that alerted him of the presence of another. Shifting his weight and turning his head to look at the approaching stallion, he drank in his appearance. He blended perfectly with the blanket of snow spread across the ground, if not for his strikingly bright markings. The fact that this stranger was laughing at him was somewhat surprising, but then again, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd been ridiculed for his appearance. Crowley's horns were quite different than that of other unicorns, that was true, but this difference had never bothered him in the least before. Everyone else could go jump off of a cliff for all that he cared. At the stallion's words, the slightest grin made an appearance across his facade. "You may call me Crowley. As for my color, it will not matter for long," comes a retort from the brindled stallion, looking the other over with piercing yellows eyes. He was one to talk, honestly, with his crimson markings screaming out in comparison to the rest of his otherwise white coat. Yet Crowley did not comment on this, as he was not here to argue. On the topic of a home, he was careful to think his words over closely. He rather enjoyed being in charge of his own person, and wouldn't listen to just any old so-called leader. "I'm here to offer my allegiance," he started after a moment, "But let it be known, Cupid, that I do not plan on living out the rest of my years under the peaceful protection of some simpleton." Allowing this to sink in, the brindle exhaled a breath as he awaited a response. If Valentine could not offer him what he was seeking, then he would simply move on and continue his search. Word Count: 318 Walk Walk Walk "Talk Talk Talk." Think Think Think |
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The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
