04-08-2015, 04:14 PM
The stallion is reticent in his answers. Hurricane has to wonder if he is perhaps hiding something. His expression remains as still as ever, revealing none of his suspicions until a new thought suddenly occurs to him. The only other explanation for the man’s reticence would be if he believed Hurricane is challenging him because he wishes the throne. The thought elicits a staccato bark of laughter from the gray stallion.
If you think I am aiming for the throne, you would be dead wrong. I would make a piss-poor king. You know it and I know it. Now let’s put the testosterone away, shall we?
His amusement is short lived however, as his expression once again turns flinty. His ebony eyes bore into the scarred stallion with an intensity that many might find unnerving. He then voices the thoughts that the others should be wondering.
The only other reason for your unwillingness to answer my simple questions would be if you are deliberately attempting to deceive us. If not, why are you so determined not to share? Do you expect us to trust you blindly? After Mountain? You must be a fool if you expect it. And really, what type of men would want to sit a stallion on the throne who is quite blatantly deceiving them?
He lets the question fall into silence, his hard gaze remaining fixed upon Errant. And though his eyes never waver, the last question is clearly asked not just of the stallion before him, but all those present.
If you think I am aiming for the throne, you would be dead wrong. I would make a piss-poor king. You know it and I know it. Now let’s put the testosterone away, shall we?
His amusement is short lived however, as his expression once again turns flinty. His ebony eyes bore into the scarred stallion with an intensity that many might find unnerving. He then voices the thoughts that the others should be wondering.
The only other reason for your unwillingness to answer my simple questions would be if you are deliberately attempting to deceive us. If not, why are you so determined not to share? Do you expect us to trust you blindly? After Mountain? You must be a fool if you expect it. And really, what type of men would want to sit a stallion on the throne who is quite blatantly deceiving them?
He lets the question fall into silence, his hard gaze remaining fixed upon Errant. And though his eyes never waver, the last question is clearly asked not just of the stallion before him, but all those present.
There is never a day that goes by
that is a good day to die.
Hurricane