Ramses I will eat you alive
Watching quietly the coyote witnesses the magic that responds so easily to its master’s command. From the parched earth, a petite fig tree emerges and reaches for the heavens. Crimson eyes widen as he admires the beauty before him before he directs his attention back to the other stallion.
“I am Ipomoea.”
Allowing the name to roll around in his skull, Ramses continued analyzing his little brother with that predatory tilt of his head. This boy before him (for that is how he recognized him) was a contradiction and something the wildling couldn’t quite understand. He was born here under the sweltering sun and yet he was delicate and literally filled with life.
“And your name is?”
Ipomoea asked as he sunk his teeth into the plump fig, the juice running from his maw, dripping to the sand at his hooves. Ramses’s eyes drifted to that spot on the ground and he licked his lips, lost in thought for a moment.
“Ramses,” the sorrel man muttered as he lifted his eyes and peered at his brother once more. Narrowing his scarlet eyes for a moment, Ramses found himself smiling, a sly, devious smirk.
“But you should know me…… little brother,” the man said, his voice curling around him, a slithering snake of emotion and deception.
Would he remember now? Could he?
“The desert has called you for she is in your blood,” Ramses whispered, his tone laced with a muted severity.
For once in his harsh life, he felt that beast within his chest pause for a moment to ponder the creature before him.
Tag: @Ipomoea
