Post by AcidRain on Jan 11, 2015 16:32:47 GMT -5
The red mare pranced along, her tail held high and her ears pricked forward. To any outside observer, she looked quick happy; giddy, even. In truth, Pollux was far from any positive emotion. Inwardly, she was seething, emotions roiling in her gut. The spirits whispered to her as she moved, their dark shapes flitting on the edges of her vision.
Stole him from you, A grating, gravelly voice hissed, its' breath cold against her ear. He was yours! You made him perfect, Pollux. Came the breathy, familiar voice she had come to know as Seriph. New spirits were finding her all the time, and the harsh voice had yet to show her its visage or give her its name. But you'll get him, you will.
Our little queen will get revenge.
Pull out his eyes, make him pay.
Each voice whispered to the new queen, and she reveled in their sound. They seemed not to want to show themselves today; all she had seen were flits of shadow, but they were just as outraged as she. It had been a week or so since her brother was stolen. Life was so different without her weak little slave trailing behind, and the spirits seemed attuned to her distress.
"Yes, worry not, my guides. Revenge will be had, and we will have our slave back," she murmured, rage boiling in her belly at the very thought of Vitto, the stallion to blame for the crime. "Little brother, he'll be so lost without us."
Lost in her little world, the mare failed to hear the approaching hooves of another. She attributed the form in her peripheral vision to the spirits, but for once the being was real.
Stole him from you, A grating, gravelly voice hissed, its' breath cold against her ear. He was yours! You made him perfect, Pollux. Came the breathy, familiar voice she had come to know as Seriph. New spirits were finding her all the time, and the harsh voice had yet to show her its visage or give her its name. But you'll get him, you will.
Our little queen will get revenge.
Pull out his eyes, make him pay.
Each voice whispered to the new queen, and she reveled in their sound. They seemed not to want to show themselves today; all she had seen were flits of shadow, but they were just as outraged as she. It had been a week or so since her brother was stolen. Life was so different without her weak little slave trailing behind, and the spirits seemed attuned to her distress.
"Yes, worry not, my guides. Revenge will be had, and we will have our slave back," she murmured, rage boiling in her belly at the very thought of Vitto, the stallion to blame for the crime. "Little brother, he'll be so lost without us."
Lost in her little world, the mare failed to hear the approaching hooves of another. She attributed the form in her peripheral vision to the spirits, but for once the being was real.
