OH I DON'T WANNA DO THE SLEEP TALK BABY, WAKE UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN
”I’ve never used them for fighting.” And Toro wants to say, hah, I can tell, but he shies away because he thinks it will hurt. (Since when did it matter what hurt?) Toro catches Anzhelo’s eyes for a moment, gaze glancing along the jewels and bone and thinking that, perhaps, their blood is not so different. In concept, at least.
No. We’re different. It is easy to be fooled by glitter and bone.
”Take this.” The scale at Anzhelo’s neck floats up and over his horns and Toro frowns. ”It’s a scale from a dragon… it’ll protect you.”
Toro stares at him. He wants to step back back back back but why—
”You…for…it’s for me? I - uh, I couldn’t. I mean. It’s yours. What if I die? You won’t get it back. I mean, I’d give it back, if I took it, but I shouldn’t. Don’t you want it? You should be protected. You said you don’t fight. I fight. I can protect myself, if you can’t, who’s going to protect you, Anzhelo?” The words spill out of his mouth and he wants so hard for them to stop but he thinks all of these things and they show up out loud in the space between the stallions because this thing Anzhelo is doing is wrong, so wrong -
No no no no no no no not for me not for me not for me
For when was the last time he had been given anything but spit and tears?
@
"What I say,"
What I think,
