He had seen her here, mingling amongst the others. She was unlike them. Perhaps this was what Dare had become – a new mare. He had heard that sometimes, if you asked the gods in the right way…they would let you come back. Sometimes, you had your old memories, and sometimes not. It was a desperate, fool’s notion that he clung to. He knew that Dare was dead. Gone. And he would never see her silver flesh again; would never be able to touch her, to spar with her, or to be comforted by her. He would never again be used by her as a tool to her own gain. There was a tiny part of him that suggested he should hate her for what she had done – used him… but the rest of him had decided that he had actually loved her, and that she had simply nurtured that and had guided him. Besides…who could hate something so perfect? And so, now, his dark eyes searched through the crowd for the red mare. He was tall enough to see over most of the other horses here, and so finding her wouldn’t be hard. Or so he thought. He had only seen her once, but he knew it had to be Dare. She had come back to him through it all, and now it was his job to find her and remind her of who she was. Once his black eyes fell upon her, he felt his cold heart skip a beat before he moved closer, stepping around the festive-goers and those who had over-indulged on treats and cider. Despicable creatures, really. Defenseless and vile. Oh, how he could rape and pillage this entire world right now – creating an army of baby Plagues to raise as he sees fit. But instead, his mind is set on one thing – finding this mare. Once he wove through the crowd and saw her, he arched his neck and couldn’t help but prance however slightly. It was half a show of his masculinity, and half a show of his gorgeous physique (I apologize, but Plague is slightly vain). He stopped before her, muscles rippling. Truth be told, he was handsome – a true display of masculine virility and strength. His black eyes caressed every inch of her without reserve – he was not shy. This was, after all, his mare. He had found her after what felt like a hundred years of searching (and who knows…it very well may have been). ”Dare…” His deep voice was almost a whisper, a breathy sound that you may question if you actually heard. ”You came back…?” He hadn’t seen her die, but surely, she must have. What else would keep her from him? He wanted to touch her to be sure; to feel her fur beneath his muzzle, but he refrained. Oblivion didn’t recognize him…what if he was wrong, again? What if this wasn’t Dare? What if this wasn’t the only mare who had ever tamed him enough to use him as a weapon? Stop! It was Dare. It had to be. And so, he stood there waiting to hear what she had to say. Certainly, this was his beloved. ”Speech” |
| I find it kind of funny…I find it kind of sad…the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had | |
@Nimue