Like a Thorn to the Holy Ones [any]

[Nymphetamine]

Like a thorn to the holy ones The blood bay stallion's words had just left his lips, and he must have been in deeper thought than he realized as he had no idea the mare had approached. Nymphetamine's spires flicked to her as she came to halt before them. He watched her as she addressed the old man, Magnus, first. Her mane and tale stirred in the wind. He watched at patches of white flickered into view from under her mane. She had a unique coloring, different than his own red mahogany, but unique. The fae was young, but probably older than he. If she were younger than I, she would be just a babe. He smiled slightly at himself, he knew himself but he knew not feminine ones that wandered. He had friends of the fae nature back in his father's lands, before the fires....before he had to flee. They were all just babes then- and the smile she flashed was not the jesting grin his friend had flashed as the played in the trees all those months ago. Once more it was as if he had sea legs on solid ground. Not used to the world he found himself in. Dark, deep pools focused as to not show his lack of game, his newness to the adult world he was venturing.  He allowed a smile to part along his maw and then allowed it part to address the lass before him. Aye miss, I am new to this place. Please, call me Nymphetamine. The Old Man was telling me all about The Hates, I mean Gates. What has you out today? The glint in his eye as he opening called Magnus old with the fae present showed his jest, but karma smacked him upside the head in instant retribution. Nymphetamine could not believe he lost his form, his father would not have been pleased. Ease of tongue was a needed- was mandatory at all times. Power over yourself was a requirement of the Heir. He stomped a dagger, hoping it looked like itch, or an early season fly. Thought he would never be the Heir to his father's lands now, he wanted to live by the rules his father taught him from a young age. He knew the old man would notice, but hoped his prodding manor earlier wouldn't push the sandy toned stag to add to his dismay. Feeling the need to redeem himself he decided he had to speak again, this time paying attention instead of being distracted.   Tell me belle, what say you about The Gates? How had he been caught unaware? How had his guard been down?  Jest had never caused him to falter in the past. The conversation with the stag had been generally brief. He had been trained, knew better?  The fae had come up and he had not even noticed-- that hadn't happened since he was a colt. Nymphetamine let the thought go and listened for his companions' replies. The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian They Run From Him at: 16.2 He’s made it this far: 2 years Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up. Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your lowliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision Sunsetter... Nymphetamine HTML Copyright To Tay.