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Date Posted: 21:44:24 04/27/04 Tue
Author: Texas
Subject: Don't mess with Texas
In reply to: Shifter 's message, "-|I rather feel the Icy Darkness|-" on 18:21:29 04/27/04 Tue

Triangular appendages caught the fae's lyrics, caught also the muted sound of a growl. The latter was dismissed with hardly a second thought. Of course there would be strays around. Humans lurked in relatively close proximity to the wild herds. It was safe to assume that a few mongrels had escaped their bumbling clutches. No need to fret over a hungry mutt snarling at its own shadow. Tangled banner licked restlessly at muscled haunches as the blackened stud shifted his weight, hunting his memory for recollections suitable for retelling in mixed company. After a slight pause, his gravelly melody issued forth again.

"I am the product of a lead stallion and a lowly herd mare. My sire was a vicious brute, quite fond of rape and incest. Every mare in the harem was fair game for him and other stallions were not tolerated. When I was barely weaned, I was chased away from the herd. I was too much competition for my mother's affections. With me around, she wouldn't produce another of his bastards, so I had to go."

Graphic, yes. Honest, yes. One hundred percent forthright? Eh, not really. Why add emotion to the shocking words? Did he have to describe how it felt to hear his younger sisters' screams when he came for them? How the metallic scent of blood could be smelled for days after he flew into a rage? How the thirsty earth drank up the spilled blood from the females' limp forms when they denied him? No, he didn't and he wouldn't. Just the facts, ma'am. The facts were enough. Tilting his head slightly in a horsey shrug, he continued, baritone tripping nonchalantly along the words as if telling someone else's life story and not his own.

"I wandered after that, seeking others like me. But many harems in those lands were a very patriochial sort, more than one male was one too many. I found Cascade Mountains, you found me. The rest is history."

Dark chocolate occules moved to hers, watching closely for a genuine reaction. One sight of the insanely annoying "Oh dear me! You poor thing!" type of simpering and he was outta there. But he was giving the bay damsel the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she would be made of stronger, harsher stuff than the fluttering ninnies he had encountered before.

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