04-24-2016, 11:47 AM
"Evil requires no reason."
His romp with Ryss, had been mind bending. It had made the black stallion feel something other than his usual cool contempt. He still wore the marks from her, although by now they had faded into white scars beneath his black pelt. The blood had long since been cleaned off, by scratching his body against the trees as they had healed and the blood had dried. Now it was cold, and his fur was thick and kept him warm.
His felt the cold fear snake itself into his heart again, making his adrenaline speed through his veins in a burst. There was no way that he cared for Rys more than he did any other mare he had kids with (lies). There is no way that he would be there for the birthing of this kid (another lie). He wasn't obsessed with her (liar, liar).
He growled at his thoughts, recognizing them for what they were.
Lies.
All lies.
The black stallion shifts into a dire wolf, his fangs sharp and his predator senses kicking in. He reveled in the feeling of it, the way his muscles coiled so differently yet the same beneath his black coat. He growls when he senses a bear nearby. He needed something, needed the violence that this fight promised.
So off he went, to tangle with a bear.
The bear lost of course.
Pazuzu returned to his horse form, pleasantly tired, even though the traitorous thoughts still lingered in his mind. He did not love her, he had never loved anyone and would not start now. But she was like a drug, someone to take advantage of, even if it had been the best lay of his life. And although he had had other mares after her, none had compared (sorry ladies).
Blood ran in ragged rivulets down his sides, more scars to add to the various ones on his body. He would keep these ones too, for a while. He let the blood run, didn't bother to heal it and stood there, his shrewd eyes landing on others but staying in the shadows.
His felt the cold fear snake itself into his heart again, making his adrenaline speed through his veins in a burst. There was no way that he cared for Rys more than he did any other mare he had kids with (lies). There is no way that he would be there for the birthing of this kid (another lie). He wasn't obsessed with her (liar, liar).
He growled at his thoughts, recognizing them for what they were.
Lies.
All lies.
The black stallion shifts into a dire wolf, his fangs sharp and his predator senses kicking in. He reveled in the feeling of it, the way his muscles coiled so differently yet the same beneath his black coat. He growls when he senses a bear nearby. He needed something, needed the violence that this fight promised.
So off he went, to tangle with a bear.
The bear lost of course.
Pazuzu returned to his horse form, pleasantly tired, even though the traitorous thoughts still lingered in his mind. He did not love her, he had never loved anyone and would not start now. But she was like a drug, someone to take advantage of, even if it had been the best lay of his life. And although he had had other mares after her, none had compared (sorry ladies).
Blood ran in ragged rivulets down his sides, more scars to add to the various ones on his body. He would keep these ones too, for a while. He let the blood run, didn't bother to heal it and stood there, his shrewd eyes landing on others but staying in the shadows.
pazuzu