Bloody hell. His track record has been terrible so far.
Despite having approached a total of four mares, he hasn’t managed to convince anyone to join him in his herdland. It’s pitiful. Why has no one fallen to his charms? He knows that all four of them couldn’t have seen through him - he’s good at pretending to be what he’s not. What is it that he’s lacking?
It’s frustrating him - he’s never been unsuccessful with anything before. And it’s making him angry.
He stalks into the meadow with a scowl on his face, glaring down the few stallions that dare to glance in his direction. He’s in the mood to pick a fight, though no one seems tempted to take him up on the offer.
He’s considering starting something himself, when a pretty looking silver dapple mare catches his eye. She’s alone, but the look on her face tells him that she’s upset about something. Perfect. He always loves them when they’re vulnerable.
He plasters his best concerned look on his face, then makes his approach, stopping what he believes is a respectful distance away. He clears his throat quietly - she seems deep in thought, and he doesn’t want to startle her too much. “Hello there miss, are you quite alright?” He fakes a tentative smile - it seems the appropriate expression. “I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just that, well, you seem to look quite upset about something.” He takes a step forward, but no further. He doesn’t want to scare her off - some can find his appearance (17 hands of shining iron) a little alarming. And he doesn't want her to realize what he really is until it's far too late.
Despite having approached a total of four mares, he hasn’t managed to convince anyone to join him in his herdland. It’s pitiful. Why has no one fallen to his charms? He knows that all four of them couldn’t have seen through him - he’s good at pretending to be what he’s not. What is it that he’s lacking?
It’s frustrating him - he’s never been unsuccessful with anything before. And it’s making him angry.
He stalks into the meadow with a scowl on his face, glaring down the few stallions that dare to glance in his direction. He’s in the mood to pick a fight, though no one seems tempted to take him up on the offer.
He’s considering starting something himself, when a pretty looking silver dapple mare catches his eye. She’s alone, but the look on her face tells him that she’s upset about something. Perfect. He always loves them when they’re vulnerable.
He plasters his best concerned look on his face, then makes his approach, stopping what he believes is a respectful distance away. He clears his throat quietly - she seems deep in thought, and he doesn’t want to startle her too much. “Hello there miss, are you quite alright?” He fakes a tentative smile - it seems the appropriate expression. “I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just that, well, you seem to look quite upset about something.” He takes a step forward, but no further. He doesn’t want to scare her off - some can find his appearance (17 hands of shining iron) a little alarming. And he doesn't want her to realize what he really is until it's far too late.
K H A O S
iron son of carnage and oswyn
hell is empty and all the devils are here
Reference here
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