04-12-2021, 06:36 PM
The light that meets the dark
Eyes: the strange stallion who pulled his dark body free from the endless shadows had a pair that were pointed and glowing red, expressive in a way Cheri couldn’t ignore. They didn’t have love for her, though they did seem conflicted for a moment. As if the mind they belonged to disagreed on the level of scathing Cheri deserved. She couldn’t be certain; like herself, the rest of his expression was lost to the oppressive dark since his inky pelt blended in so well. He seemed to despise her, but all Cheri could wonder was, “Why waste the energy?”
She had little value beyond her gift of healing. If his threat was a thinly veiled one he’d find that out soon enough anyways, and Cheri knew better than to wait around and let him discover as much. Her wings stayed aloft a minute longer, outspread and caught mid-air while he berated her. She shouldn’t entertain this, nothing she'd done warranted it despite the level of stupidity he placed her under, and though she knew the best response to this was no response at all, something inside of her hardened like resentment.
She thought him a proper bastard and would’ve told him so, if Cheri had been a lesser sort of horse.
Decision made, her wings snapped shut audibly despite their being made of pure light. Against her side again they lit up her body, showing how every soft muscle and sculpted bone tensed with barely restrained anger. “You know better.” She told herself, “He’s not worth it.” Her conscious tried to keep her restrained, but it was his chuckle that cemented the brute’s fate with her. That noise grated her: how cocky! How utterly annoying and… and smooth! Smooth? “Confident, hideously confident.” She corrected herself.
Heat rose to Cheri’s face. “I know well enough how it feels to have those things shred my skin. They did it easily, like pulling grass out of the dirt.” She spoke softly, head rising. “And perhaps you’d be worse.” She granted him that much, assuming his intimidation meant that he was to be considered as dangerous as them. Everything could always be worse. Every horse was capable of killing.
She took a bold step toward the bigger stallion, surprised at herself when the hoof didn’t tremble from fear. “Or,” She paused, wet from the sudden burst of a spring rain dropping out of the red-black sky, “perhaps you’re not, and I’m the last horse you should be threatening.”
The withering fields and their decaying crops soaked up the rare watering silently, and Cheri held her breath (and her ground) for the time being. “Remember,” her eyes flashed pridefully as they blinked away the moisture, “no scar he leaves can stay forever.” No amount of damage he did to her couldn’t be undone, in time. She felt a thrill despite the danger, thinking she was going crazy because she wanted him to prove evil was as real and tangible a thing as goodness. Confusion tormented her, tore at Cheri’s breast when it rose and fell unsteadily.
He was crude and deserved a lashing better than the one Cheri could give him, and she felt insufficient enough to really be any sort of threat to him. She suddenly wished for the strength of ten horses, and then she hated herself for allowing his petty insult to turn her heart the way it did. Hating felt wrong but in a small way it also felt … refreshing, exhilarating. The way she felt about herself in the moment contorted until it was turned against the strange horse instead, and at that moment all of Cheri’s goodwill and kind consciousness couldn’t have stopped her from transforming into the perfect reflection of a spoiled, insecure brat of a mare.
“My protectors would have your head displayed on a tree limb if you so much as bent a single hair on my neck.” Cheri’s soft voice curled with indignation.
She had little value beyond her gift of healing. If his threat was a thinly veiled one he’d find that out soon enough anyways, and Cheri knew better than to wait around and let him discover as much. Her wings stayed aloft a minute longer, outspread and caught mid-air while he berated her. She shouldn’t entertain this, nothing she'd done warranted it despite the level of stupidity he placed her under, and though she knew the best response to this was no response at all, something inside of her hardened like resentment.
She thought him a proper bastard and would’ve told him so, if Cheri had been a lesser sort of horse.
Decision made, her wings snapped shut audibly despite their being made of pure light. Against her side again they lit up her body, showing how every soft muscle and sculpted bone tensed with barely restrained anger. “You know better.” She told herself, “He’s not worth it.” Her conscious tried to keep her restrained, but it was his chuckle that cemented the brute’s fate with her. That noise grated her: how cocky! How utterly annoying and… and smooth! Smooth? “Confident, hideously confident.” She corrected herself.
Heat rose to Cheri’s face. “I know well enough how it feels to have those things shred my skin. They did it easily, like pulling grass out of the dirt.” She spoke softly, head rising. “And perhaps you’d be worse.” She granted him that much, assuming his intimidation meant that he was to be considered as dangerous as them. Everything could always be worse. Every horse was capable of killing.
She took a bold step toward the bigger stallion, surprised at herself when the hoof didn’t tremble from fear. “Or,” She paused, wet from the sudden burst of a spring rain dropping out of the red-black sky, “perhaps you’re not, and I’m the last horse you should be threatening.”
The withering fields and their decaying crops soaked up the rare watering silently, and Cheri held her breath (and her ground) for the time being. “Remember,” her eyes flashed pridefully as they blinked away the moisture, “no scar he leaves can stay forever.” No amount of damage he did to her couldn’t be undone, in time. She felt a thrill despite the danger, thinking she was going crazy because she wanted him to prove evil was as real and tangible a thing as goodness. Confusion tormented her, tore at Cheri’s breast when it rose and fell unsteadily.
He was crude and deserved a lashing better than the one Cheri could give him, and she felt insufficient enough to really be any sort of threat to him. She suddenly wished for the strength of ten horses, and then she hated herself for allowing his petty insult to turn her heart the way it did. Hating felt wrong but in a small way it also felt … refreshing, exhilarating. The way she felt about herself in the moment contorted until it was turned against the strange horse instead, and at that moment all of Cheri’s goodwill and kind consciousness couldn’t have stopped her from transforming into the perfect reflection of a spoiled, insecure brat of a mare.
“My protectors would have your head displayed on a tree limb if you so much as bent a single hair on my neck.” Cheri’s soft voice curled with indignation.
@[Obscene] you pressed her buttons so now you get a novel, lol.