I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
For a man as old as Ashhal, this entirely re-made Beqanna is still in its infancy. That the stallion before him had seen it as it was cracked and re-shaped would do little to change his opinion on the matter. The rulers he called legend are just as young when the rulers Ashhal had once served had passed from legend to forgotten. Time has a funny way of doing that even to the supposed greatest of them.
The moment the deep growl emanates from the yellow stallion’s throat, Ashhal is alert. The aggression he had only recently banked comes flaring back with a vengeance, black eyes darkening with a dangerous gleam as his wings flare, preparing for whatever the beast hiding behind Ledger’s eyes might throw at him.
Though they are not strikes, the words the shifter throws at him are met with equal ill humor. “My problem,” Ashhal snaps back in a grating tone, “is fuckwads who think they’re so much better they can tell everyone else what to do.”
Ashhal would have been far more disgusted if an apology had been issued in the wake of Ledger’s outburst. In his opinion, it’s pointless to lie about such a thing. Almost as bad as shoving down one’s desire for aggression and blaming it on a thing as much a part of oneself as his hooves or nose. For all his faults (of which he has many), Ashhal had always been honest. Brutally so. But to mask the anger and toxicity of his own soul would be a lie, one he refused to live with. So as far as he was concerned, Ledger could get on board with his boorishness or he could fuck right off.
So he says so.
“Oh, fuck off.” An undoubtedly fantastic response to Ledger’s flat attempt at a joke. “I won’t be a party to this fucking back and forth bullshit of yours. Either say what you mean or you can damned well find another dipshit to annoy.”
@[Ledger] Ashhal is a very bad friend
