Only the foolish would hate their kind which is separated by only a few, brilliant features. To loathe oneself bedecked with such beautiful and graceful appendages as wings was foolish, but if only the scant addition of a shining horn, Osiris would question just how idiotic your truly were. There are real monsters out there, making insanity the type to hate their own kind with a few minute additions or lack of them. Still, this world to which he was born was one caked in magic and insanity, both miraculous as it was frightening. To live in times such as these, perhaps one needed be a bit mad, but he was certain that many were taking that necessity to extremes.

The forest was lightening, and the wolf figured he had left the heartland of the trees and was now standing on the outer rim of Helovia. The naked branches of the trees were less heavily laden with snow than in the past few weeks, a sign that winter was coming to a most relieving end. If any creature was fit for cold weather, though, it was the fur covered mutt of an equine. His body was laced with a thick coat, preventing the chill from reaching his skin below. Even the wind, which tore through the empty branches above, was no match for the underlayer of his thick pelt. It was a sorry thing that his companion was born without such clothing, though the internal embers which burned in his belly kept the little black plenty warm. Great clawed paws squish through the mud left behind in the wake of melting snow, the brown liquid clinging to his fur and dirtying the legs. It mattered little; even clean, the wolf was not pleasing to gaze upon.

A screech from above signals the hybrid's attention, his golden eyes closing as he pauses. A mare, the dragon says, hovering above the trees. The violet gaze, much sharper than any hooved beings in the land, propelled forth to bring forth the image of her body. She was pretty, her gaze almost pink, but there was something in her step that Osiris found particularly haughty and annoying. She was directly in his path toward the Foothills, though, and his want to meet with his wolven family was greater than his need to avoid her. Opening golden eyes, the wolf moves onward, a few short minutes before he finds her gazing at her own reflection; vanity at its finest, and how it was disgusting. "Why must they taint us so?" A barking laugh rings from the hybrid's mouth as he tries to circle around her.

"Only children and the insane speak to themselves aloud," he says gruffly, flashes of serrated teeth barely visible under the thick skin of his lips. "Since you are not a child, is it safe to assume you are already tainted by your own demons?" As if she would even know what demons were.
""