07-03-2015, 03:59 PM
{we all are living in a dream}
{and life aint what it seems}
{and life aint what it seems}
Of course, Ghoest hadn't expected a warm welcome. Killgore wasn't exactly a kind creature, and frequently mocked the little roan, or, even worse, helped Khaos with the punishments. Ghoest also knew it wasn't her place to be here, and that she would probably be better off if Killgore drowned in the ocean. Nonetheless, here she was, trying to do what she thought was right. The other mare didn't see it that way.
The bay seemed to be in almost a state of delirium (understandable after just losing a child), and the maniacal laugh that had escaped her throat sent chills down Ghoest's spine. Was she wrong to have come over? Probably. Killgore didn't raise her head when she spoke, but Ghoest thought it was a good sign that she could at least talk; much more pleasant than that laugh or a beating. After a few moments more, a towering buckskin mare wandered in front of the pair, acknowledging Ghoest before speaking to Killgore. She had seen the buckskin before, speaking with Khaos, but had yet to meet her formally. Her words were formal and decisive, any kindness in them had been drowned out by the dark tone in her voice. It didn't matter to Ghoest though, she hopped up clumsily, spraying water in every direction as she did, eager to keep the tall mare happy. Killgore, on the other hand, stood up with purpose; angry, crazy purpose.
She scarcely had time to react as the bay turned on her, reaching out with teeth that searched for soft flesh. Those eyes reminded Ghoest of her fathers in his last moments, it wasn't just anger. It was as if the last threads of sanity had broken, and she was spiraling into her own mental demise. It was at this point that Ghoest realized there wasn't anything she could do, she was kind, not a miracle worker. A familiar sting grazed her neck as Killgore's teeth scraped across her pelt, drawing a small stream of blood. Nothing new, she was used to it, and she didn't squeal or flinch, Ghoest didn't want to give her the satisfaction. The words hurt though... Ghoest may not have wanted the child but it was still a living creature, and it certainly didn't seem above the crazed mare to kill an innocent child if given the opportunity soon. Perhaps the child would carry some of Khaos' traits and would remain protected under the iron steed's wing.
There was the laugh, that crazy, insane cackle that cut through the air like a knife. Instinctively she shifted behind the buckskin, the one who had yet to bring her harm. It seemed safer to keep the large mare between the crazed ex-mother and herself, Ghoest wasn't much of a fighter.
The bay seemed to be in almost a state of delirium (understandable after just losing a child), and the maniacal laugh that had escaped her throat sent chills down Ghoest's spine. Was she wrong to have come over? Probably. Killgore didn't raise her head when she spoke, but Ghoest thought it was a good sign that she could at least talk; much more pleasant than that laugh or a beating. After a few moments more, a towering buckskin mare wandered in front of the pair, acknowledging Ghoest before speaking to Killgore. She had seen the buckskin before, speaking with Khaos, but had yet to meet her formally. Her words were formal and decisive, any kindness in them had been drowned out by the dark tone in her voice. It didn't matter to Ghoest though, she hopped up clumsily, spraying water in every direction as she did, eager to keep the tall mare happy. Killgore, on the other hand, stood up with purpose; angry, crazy purpose.
She scarcely had time to react as the bay turned on her, reaching out with teeth that searched for soft flesh. Those eyes reminded Ghoest of her fathers in his last moments, it wasn't just anger. It was as if the last threads of sanity had broken, and she was spiraling into her own mental demise. It was at this point that Ghoest realized there wasn't anything she could do, she was kind, not a miracle worker. A familiar sting grazed her neck as Killgore's teeth scraped across her pelt, drawing a small stream of blood. Nothing new, she was used to it, and she didn't squeal or flinch, Ghoest didn't want to give her the satisfaction. The words hurt though... Ghoest may not have wanted the child but it was still a living creature, and it certainly didn't seem above the crazed mare to kill an innocent child if given the opportunity soon. Perhaps the child would carry some of Khaos' traits and would remain protected under the iron steed's wing.
There was the laugh, that crazy, insane cackle that cut through the air like a knife. Instinctively she shifted behind the buckskin, the one who had yet to bring her harm. It seemed safer to keep the large mare between the crazed ex-mother and herself, Ghoest wasn't much of a fighter.
ew crap... sorry guys