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12-22-2012, 07:43 PM
 The brothers were thirsty for knowledge. But they were more thirsty for action. They watched the happenings with mild interest. Eyes of orange, eyes of predators, tracked the flight of the mare, the landing, the self-righteous way in which she held herself, the commanding tone she attempted to impart in her voice. They sneered at her, from their hidden lair amidst the shadows. Thundering hooves told them of another's approach. He was young, but he had won, he had taken the victory from the pegasus who thought so highly of herself. The brothers knew all too well to never judge a book by its cover. The King of Thieves may thus far prove himself to be a worthy leader - he would be the first since their original joining o the herd beneath Gossamer. He was intense in his actions, rage fuelled him. The brothers knew of rage, of anger, of the crimson, blood-red cloud that obscures all the senses and drives one to make rash decisions. And they respected him all the more for it. Swift as flames devouring dry leaves, and silent as shadows moving across the land, the brothers were in the wake of Jackal's path, trumpetting their support. They did not know the specifics -specifics matter little to them - they only saw that their new leader was charging the previous one away. They were going to help eradicate this idiocy from the lands. larfsalot.deviantart.com |
