taren
you're a real firecracker, aren't you sparky?
He gets up easily enough, lithe and nimble, blinking around the beach. Oh yes.. This strength and power. It felt good. He was back to normal. Or so… He thought.
He had an urge for milk. Milkies. He wants milkies, dammit!
And so a small, infantile whinny escapes his mouth—which he immediately clamps shut, before looking down at himself. Black. Like Charcoal. Flipped around, he falls down the sand dunes, but a flash of yellow plays on his bum and on the back of his neck. This is decidedly NOT what he remembers.
He’s a red magician.
Or at least he was.
He rolls. His tiny tummy round and plump as he rights himself again, the world seeming much much shorter than it did before. And he still wanted milkies.
DAMMIT
And just then, a red flash emanates from him as he jumps up in the air. Towards a red… dun male laying in the dirt.
He rushes over. “Are you okay?” He does not recognize the man, and his mind is unable to read it. And the voice that speaks. It is not his. It is a child’s voice.
And then suddenly, the red man stirs…“I think I’ve been knocked for a loop”. And looks at the small boy. The small boy looks back… looking up and familiarity sets in.
“YOU’RE ME!” they declare at the same time.
Together, and yet very infinitely separated. Ashley’s mind finally settled. He stood up, shook out his mane, and stared down at the boy, before raking his gaze to where Cross and the other mare had landed in the sand.
This, cannot, be fucking possible.
The small black child that stood at his feet with an expression of disgust that was FAR older than his years… A physical manifestion of… himself. His hair was charred black, but his yellow hair stood up on end as if he’d been caught in an electric current, and the red flash of lightning that he had seen the boy emanate…
Simply, it could not be possible.
Except. Here he was. This child bore power and strength that Ashley no longer possessed. The old red king was angry, as his new reality came down to settle upon him. He was alive, but it came with a price.
And it seemed that this child was the result of that. The boy looked as if he was ready to eat a pinecone. “What the hell happened to you?” He says. And Ashley stops to think. What the hell did happen?
Here on the beach, they were exposed. And he was weak, still without his magic… a reality that was quickly realizing… that this was going to be a permanent change. “Come” says the old man, taking a step towards where Cross, his old rival, and the other mare were. The black boy that was peculiarly shaped like her….
And then it hits Ashley….
FUCK.
The small child heard the old red ginger say Come and instinctively, he followed him. Though it was with a snort and a drag that the boy did so. He saw the world through eyes that were not his own, images and flashes of great power and wild light. Ashley’s memories were his own, this much he knew, but this new take on life…
It could go die in whatever hole it came out of.
And so, they get up to where The other two are… The man looks familiar, but his name is not familiar… but the woman… automatically the small child instinctively recognizes her as if he’d been birthed from her loins. The fact that he had not, well.. was inconsequential. He saw her, and knew Milkies were abundant. He stops, tilts his little black fuzzy head, and turns to the mare.
“Mother, my name is Taren. I hope you’re cool with this. But I need milkies” and says nothing more, but draws up, and decides to eat.
Ashley blinks, his weak body longing to get out of the beach, knowing that perhaps he’d turn to some semblance of normal if he could just get out of this place of death.
His eyes drag from the small child and up to Cross, an angry, grim smile set upon his face. “Well hello, you old motherfucker. Been shagging anyone else’s mother lately, or is that just me?”
Taren could care less. He’s just had a long day. A very surprised Mother, to be sure… but at least the little charred fuzz was getting what he came down here for.
Food.