Mandrake
I did not love in the way that kindly mothers did. It was complicated. Too complicated to explain easily. I liked watching my sons bring down the prey I alloted for them, I enjoyed watching them rise to great heights, and I lusted for power. But I did not want the power of a herd- just complete an utter control over my sons, which was more power than being a herd leader could ever get me. Ultimately, I just wanted my sons to succeed, which may be good. Or not. Even my skewed mind wasn't sure how to seperate that fine line between appeasing me and making their own choices. I'm just confusing myself now. I wasn't certain what had drawn me here to the Threshold either- maybe it was the sense one of my sons had returned. Yes, I decided, that was it.
Indeed, there he was. Tajheri. Scarred along the throat and jawline. Eyes a green of the sea. A sooty kind of buckskin. Covered in blood. My little warrior. Some fillies may call him handsome. I just call him my son. One of my nine sons- Archibald, Evers, Casimir, Vincent, Knox, Wilder, Emerson, and Kipp. Lately, I had only been seeing Archibald and Evers, occasionally Knox. Where were the rest of them? Back in Isilme, where the shades roam? Dead, more likely. Dead and gone. "Tajheri! Did the shades find you?" I growled, coming closer to the blood-stained body. I didn't want to drive him off, but I was no loving mommy who would embrace him with open arms. He should've left with me and my other sons! Idiot! He had almost been killed for it! All my work undone! "Why didn't you come with me and your brothers?" I snap, ears flattening. I wouldn't bite him, for pity's sake, covered in wounds as he is.
"C'mon darling. Let's go see your brothers and get you to a healer."
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you know that idea about MORALS? i never had any.
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