I hope to arrive to my death

Late, in love, and a little drunk

Perusing through the canyon had always been a pleasant pastime for the thief. Many a weary traveler had trespassed into this dangerous land, usually delirious between the excessive heat and exhausting travel, and they had been easy targets for the coyote prince. He was sure bones still remained here; it wasn’t as though he had killed all of them, most of them just died after receiving no help, but a few? A few had still been filled with life, and things had become more complicated than they had needed to be. Still, treasure was treasure to a scavenger. However, usually he didn’t hear disgruntled screaming echoing off the stony faces of the canyon, so with a casual shrug he proceeded towards the ruckus, for when he had nothing better to do, curiosity usually dictated his behavior.

Moving along one of jags in the cliff, a ways above the very bottom (for slinking along the upper flat usually gave him the element of surprise), he made his way towards the caves. He remained out of sight as a great heaving brute paused before one of the entrances, and with a cock of his head, Killian watched the man move forward. It was as though he had important business within the cavern. But why? Usually the civilized people of this nation found better places to meet. Perhaps this was a secret meeting? The man loved himself a good secret, so quietly he followed.

His hooves glinted with gold as he moved away from the sun, listening with pricked ears for more horses. But instead, what he heard was the pathetic squabble and weak calls of birds? Lizards? It was hard to discern the sounds. What he could almost be certain of, however, was the way the stallion before him seemed to move towards the sound. The golden boy ran through his mind what could possibly call these caves home, and then it occurred to him with such a violent shock that he nearly left the cave floor. It hadn’t been that long ago that the Solterrans had battled a monstrous beast within this very chasm of cliffs, and if this other man had the audacity to fuck with the remaining parent’s children?

Absolute craziness.

“Lo, stranger,” Killian called, voice soft, yet with a resounding firmness, “whatever your doing can’t possibly be a good idea.” He moved forward upon his long legs, ears twisting back and forth, eyes darting to every visible corner as his ocean gaze adjusted to the change of light. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s a very good chance of death if those things’ parent comes back. I know you have brute strength at your beck and call, but still…” a shudder chased down his form, and he shook his head.

As his vision bettered within the shadows, he came to notice piles of whitewashed bone resting in various forms of decay. Some carcasses lay fresher than others, but many had come to rest with every last scrap and ligament pulled away. Though, his eyes came to rest upon the remainders of gold and weaponry that lay discarded by the pile. That entranced him, knowing that this would be quite a hefty burial ground for riches and valuables forgotten by all. A smile pulled at his lips. Perhaps the Goliath would serve as a distraction while he piled the valuables upon his back?

Looking back upon the other stallion, Killian did a quick scan, and noticed the dried blood painting his forelegs and splashed upon his chest. A scowl painted Killian’s features. Surely he had met warriors before with enough bloodlust to consume an army; no way would such a monster want to kill a clutch of meaningless animals? Though, sometimes those warrior-types just snapped, and needed to kill until they were stopped. Perhaps the thief was the one with the terrible ideas, seeing as he had found it necessary to follow the bloodthirsty maniac into a dark cave far from where anyone would hear him cry for help. “Why even bother coming for the offspring, anyways? Wouldn’t you find more joy fighting something your own size?”

’And by that,’ he thought to himself, ’I don’t mean me.’