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Aramis snapped at the mare who made an unlucky appearance into a situation d'Artagnan thought she didn't want to be part of. Murderous glare swung from Valentine to land on the painted femme, nostrils flaring and mismatched eyes glinting with dangerous malice as crimson lobes flattened. His gaze scrutinized the mare, scenting the basin on her, but not recalling ever meeting her before. A dark smirk wormed it's onto his lips as he regarded the child with barely concealed viciousness. "He's a traitor to our land, a little rat of the Dragons Throat. So no, I'm not going to waste my gifted power on a slug who doesn't deserve to be saved." His voice quivered in rage as he struggled to hold on to this reality as madness sank it's claws deeper and deeper into him. The words that Valentine spoke only added to his seething emotions, was there no end to his idiotic dribble?! d'Artagnan clenched his magic and held it for a moment, taking in a deep breath before speaking once again. This time, his dual coloured gaze turning on the laughable excuse for a unicorn.
"No? Too bad for you this isn't a fairytale. There are no villains and heroes, there's just blood and hatred. Reality is cruel, don't you think little hero?" He snorted then, Aramis keeping an eye on the golden spotted mare with heckles lining his small back, tail lashing from side to side. "That is why you'll never win. You think by bringing us all together that the world will be better? That you can live without love or hate? You might be older than me in the years, but you haven't seen what I've seen. As long as three different species exist there will always be differences and differences lead to war." He growled. Utterly exasperated with the meaningless shit that seemed to eek out of every maw of every Throat member he met. What made their idea of world better than his own?
He let a rumbling laughter take over him then, lowering his mouth down to Valentine's ears and whispering in his madman's voice. How dare he even mention Kou, her name did not deserve to be blemished by being spoken upon the lips of a traitor. "Does that not go for me too? If I die there will be another like me. I have already fought the hornless and none have defeated me in battle. Your little Sergeant Aryel tried and failed quite miserably. Your General came a little closer, but alas, not quite close enough yet. I have fought for the lives of my children and my Nurse, I do not care about my own life. Hurt them and I will unleash hell upon you and your poor excuses for herd mates. You don't know me that well traitor, you don't even know half the story, but you must know me well enough to understand I mean every word I say."
With that d'Artagnan lifted his head and took a few steps back, grimacing at the image of his homeland in his mind. His words had dredged up memories that were best left forgotten, bloodied hooves and screams of battle. d'Artagnan had been brought up on a battlefield, one could say he never knew anything else but hatred. Was he to blame for the monster he had become, the colt whose father had taught him to be nothing else but that. Maybe. Yet, d'Artagnan never taught his own children to hate and he let them decide their own paths. Was that the will of a monster? The Nightshade could not bring himself to inflict the same upbringing upon his children as his own father had on himself. It left the question of what did d'Artagnan the Nightshade truly hate? Was it the simple fact of hornless existing or was it something much bigger, instigated by a violent upbringing.
With his back to Valentine now, he looked at the mare with haunted eyes with the same smirk across his face. "I never called you brother. I can't even pity you. I'll take as long as I like, now... Sleep" with that d'Artagnan let go of the grip he had on his magic, not even watching Valentine as he directed it's power towards him. It was a narcotic effect to which he could render another asleep if he poured enough energy into it, the only downside was that the Nightshade himself was left rather weary.
Taking in a deep breath he regarded the girl and silently wondered what she thought of it all. "Pick your side carefully child, the easy road is the one he chose, to deny something is much simpler than to fight for it. Look at the position he's in now, weak." He said in his brusque voice, smacking his blackened tail between crimson legs with Aramis still eying her. The Mender wondered if he should've killed Valentine, but he still did not know if they had extracted everything from him that they could. It pained him to leave such a weak soul living and he remained with his back to the fallen traitor in case his emotions got the better of him.
Sighing, he lowered his head and motioned to his hell dog who dutifully bounded over and gingerly took the leaf from his mane. "Don't breathe" he cautioned the pup who happily walked through the pools of blood and stopped before the body of Valentine. Lifting out a paw, he attempted to make a small scratch mark at the base of the traitor's neck and moved to place the leaf on the possible open wound. He bounded away soon after to stand by his friend's feet, splattered in crimson blood, watching the grey form of Valentine with curiosity as d'Artagnan smiled. "He might as well have some entertainment whilst he sleeps." Speaking in dark humour as he carefully walked a little towards Zdravilo, eyes calculating.
"So, what's your name?"
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