go to hell for heaven's sake; iset

[Iset]

Slowly but surely, her life was encroaching on normalcy again, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. It was all well and good that her and her brothers were together again, but where was the adventure? The thrill? After all, 99% of Iset’s fun had spawned from danger while in the Dunes, and she missed that giddy heart-racing adrenaline-pumping feeling. She had learned very early on in her life that horses generally had one of three responses. The cowardly fled. The smart picked their battles. And the hotheads and idiots fought.  Somehow, Iset always managed to fall into the third. Flight wasn’t exactly in her vocabulary.  She sees him before she smells him, but neither sense warns her until its almost too late. She blames the snow for accosting her eyesight and freezing her the small, short hairs in her nose, making it so that she didn’t notice the stranger until he was nearly on top of her. Someone or something strange was tracking her, hunting.  As soon as he was close enough, his dark fur against the snow gave him away and her nostrils flared at his scent, new and unsettling. The thought of running crossed through her mind, but quickly escaped out the other side. It’d been a while since she’d had a little excitement anyways.  He was lower than she was, but stocky. He was something she had never seen before. And she was ready to fight him, if it came to that. She spread her skinny legs to better balance herself, baring her blunt teeth and pinning her ears flat against her head.  Before he attacks (if, in fact that is what he plans on doing), he speaks, catching her off guard. A childish pride seeps into his voice, as though seeking her out was merely a task given to him, and he has succeeded. Her guard doesn’t slip, however and before long she has returned to her defensive stance.  “Found me?” she questions curiously, “Why on earth were you looking for me in the first place? Who are you? How do you know me?” She peppers the stranger with questions, not waiting for him to answer before more fly from her mouth like bullets. there's an old man sitting on the throne thats saying isetI should probably keep my pretty mouth shut