But still you out in these streets, thinking you hot as can be.
Without the knowledge to lead, so you just follow the sheep.
Making sure your lame swag is all polished and clean
It is when he is walking through the forest that he hears the eerie song of a young ones crying and for a moment the jaguar spotted stallion stops, the soft orange glow of the cat like markings lighting the space around him softly. His head tilts, ears flicking about before he finally finds the direction in which the wound was coming from. Slowly he turns, thickly muscled legs moving him through and around the tall pines quickly. "Hello?"
The valley kings voice carries through the empty spaces as he searches for the crying face, the brow above his empty eye sockets arched in a curious fashion. He uses his wings as he comes to the break in the trees to feel the ground below, searching for a step off as the smell of water fills his nostrils and soon his hooves are sinking into the sand of the beaches as he steps from under the trees canopy. "Hello?"
He can hear her. She is close. And the smell of recent death drifts on the wind, making a small flash of odd curiosity flash across his features before disappearing. He looks to the left, slowly turning that way as he follows the sound and smell, hooves carrying him slowly through the sand. It is then he finally finds her, his tall body towering over the once living fawn and the gently crying mare and his head tilts slightly, before his eye sockets come to life, balls of blue green and purple flame swirling into view and creating a set of eyes.
He can see them now. In flame and smoke and for a moment he is quiet. "Come child. Stand up. We must do what is right for her and we can't do that with you still against her." his voice is deep but calm, encouraging her. He knows what it is like to see life and death. The smallest were always the most delicate and hardest to watch go.
demian.