09-22-2015, 09:14 AM
<center><img src=http://www.hamsterhouse.com/rockett/gallows2.jpg><table width=500 cellpadding="1" cellpadding="10" bgcolor=white><tr><td><p align=justify><font style="font-height:7pt; line-height:10pt; face: verdana; color: 000000"><font size=1 face=verdana color=000000><p align=left>
His embarrassment is vastly amusing, and I grin wickedly. I know most mothers don't publicly humiliate their sons... but who wants to be most mothers? And Kushiel ought to know he isn't most sons. Although that certainly isn't his fault. He just had the rotten luck to draw an unconventional mother in the parenting lottery.
I return his withering look with a scowl of my own. Really! He has no one but himself to blame for this mess. I snort, exasperated, my tone scolding.
“<b>If you get your ass kicked it's no less than you deserve after telling your mother's secrets.</b>”
Granted, it really won't change much. I still want Straia to join in on the fun, but I can't let Kushiel get away with thinking he can go behind his dear mother's back. I also have no intention of making him come home. I grudgingly and privately admit that my unambitious son has done rather well in the Chamber and I won't take that from him. Still, the threat of it ought to be enough to make him think twice about annoying me again.
Or not. He is his mother's son.
His attack is predictable but I don't want to discourage him. Well, not entirely. As he comes charging towards my left side, I rear, dodging his teeth on my neck and taking the graze on my shoulder. The bite hurts much less in a heavily muscled area and I doubt it will even bruise. It wouldn't do for Kushiel to feel like he hasn't a chance.
“<b>Mind reading, dear,</b>” I say mildly, reminding him of his opponent's strengths as he whirls away. Although privately I could see his intentions written all over his concentrated face. The mind reading was simply force of habit.
I smile at him, fondly and then sidle up next to him as if I am going to groom his mane, our sides most likely touching. This was something he loved as a child. I run my muzzle over the base of his mane, hoping to trick him into complacency. After all, maybe he'll think I'm going to forgive and forget. Silly man. I strike. My teeth are aiming for the back of his neck. It's little more than a nip, really, but it should be suitably embarrassing all things considered.
“<b>You might try going for my neck from the front this time, darling.</b>” I say critically as I circle so I am facing him. “<b>And for heaven's sake, Kush, please pick up your hooves when you run. It slows your attack when you drag your feet and gives me more time to react.</b>”
Gods. If he'd spent half as much time listening to me teach fighting tactics as he did <I>flirting</I> with anything that moved he might not be so concerned about the outcome of this tussle.
<center><font color=black size=7 face=georgia>G A L L O W S</font>
<font color=gray size=3><i> We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.</i><i></i></font></center>
</font></a>
<center></div><center></font></font></font></div></font></tr></td></table>
His embarrassment is vastly amusing, and I grin wickedly. I know most mothers don't publicly humiliate their sons... but who wants to be most mothers? And Kushiel ought to know he isn't most sons. Although that certainly isn't his fault. He just had the rotten luck to draw an unconventional mother in the parenting lottery.
I return his withering look with a scowl of my own. Really! He has no one but himself to blame for this mess. I snort, exasperated, my tone scolding.
“<b>If you get your ass kicked it's no less than you deserve after telling your mother's secrets.</b>”
Granted, it really won't change much. I still want Straia to join in on the fun, but I can't let Kushiel get away with thinking he can go behind his dear mother's back. I also have no intention of making him come home. I grudgingly and privately admit that my unambitious son has done rather well in the Chamber and I won't take that from him. Still, the threat of it ought to be enough to make him think twice about annoying me again.
Or not. He is his mother's son.
His attack is predictable but I don't want to discourage him. Well, not entirely. As he comes charging towards my left side, I rear, dodging his teeth on my neck and taking the graze on my shoulder. The bite hurts much less in a heavily muscled area and I doubt it will even bruise. It wouldn't do for Kushiel to feel like he hasn't a chance.
“<b>Mind reading, dear,</b>” I say mildly, reminding him of his opponent's strengths as he whirls away. Although privately I could see his intentions written all over his concentrated face. The mind reading was simply force of habit.
I smile at him, fondly and then sidle up next to him as if I am going to groom his mane, our sides most likely touching. This was something he loved as a child. I run my muzzle over the base of his mane, hoping to trick him into complacency. After all, maybe he'll think I'm going to forgive and forget. Silly man. I strike. My teeth are aiming for the back of his neck. It's little more than a nip, really, but it should be suitably embarrassing all things considered.
“<b>You might try going for my neck from the front this time, darling.</b>” I say critically as I circle so I am facing him. “<b>And for heaven's sake, Kush, please pick up your hooves when you run. It slows your attack when you drag your feet and gives me more time to react.</b>”
Gods. If he'd spent half as much time listening to me teach fighting tactics as he did <I>flirting</I> with anything that moved he might not be so concerned about the outcome of this tussle.
<center><font color=black size=7 face=georgia>G A L L O W S</font>
<font color=gray size=3><i> We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.</i><i></i></font></center>
</font></a>
<center></div><center></font></font></font></div></font></tr></td></table>