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d'Artagnan fell to a halt a few yards away from her and sneered at her challenging words. They looked to be alone at the top of the world and at the end of this; one of them was not coming back down. How long ago was it since he had this mare as a prisoner and her delightful son had come to save her. What a pity he didn't manage to kill the overgrown paint that day whose use of fire would live long into the Nightshade's memory. No, today he would make up for those mistakes in the past and take away the one he cared about the most. It was a monstrous thing to do, but that was exactly what he was born to be. What he had slowly become and what now inhabited his entire being. Bloodlust. Murder. Acquired tastes found in few and often in colts like himself, whose first sight of the world was a battlefield and his duty was to remove those who got in his father's way. d'Artagnan had not changed much except this time he simply removed those that either got in his own way or had the bad luck of running into him on a bad day.
"Pain. Loneliness. Hatred. I wonder if that is what your son will feel when I take you away from him. Poor mother, I have no reason for doing this, other than I want to. This is what I was born to do" with that he unleashed his magic in attempt to encase the mare in it's narcotic embrace, soothing and calling her into the depths of dreams or nightmares. Sinking slowly into her body, willing her to close her eyes and slumber, attempting to tug her into unconsciousness. This time d'Artagnan's weapon of choice would not be poison, the fact was he had none on him and he already had a plan in mind. He could feel his blood beginning to race and his legs tremble, an image of him ending her life with a slice of his horn. However, the Nightshade never moved an inch the whole time, his gaze filled with the lust of a stallion gone mad. Mad with the need for blood. Equine blood.
Curling lips and hoping his magic had done the trick of sedating Solstice, the crimson murderer turned his head slowly to one side. It was time to cut the Worlds Edge short of another member, "Aramis. Kill her." Still sprouting short bursts of fire, the hell dog shot from his master's side and jumped to latch onto the jugular of the mare. Teeth and flames tearing, burning at flesh. His attack was a swift one, if contact was made perfectly, the hound was kind and his blow was aimed to be a quick easy death. The hornless would feel little pain in her hopefully sedated state as her life was taken away by a dog who was now covered in hot, wet blood. The markings on his coat glowed and emphasized the red as large paws splashed through the crimson puddles and back to d'Artagnan who nodded once in approval. In all hopes the deed was done and his gaze slowly lost the wildness of madness, the stallion knew the day he died that hells gates would gladly embrace him. The hopes of heaven was gone and there was no need to hold back now, he was already heading for the black abyss where none could save him.
Still stood like a statue, he looked on emotionless towards where the mare was.
"Farewell hornless."
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