Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
but you are not delicate.
You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
You are breathtaking.
You are beautiful.
The minute the black beast turns on me, I know I've made a terrible mistake. What in the hell was I thinking? Clearly the white stallion had been in no real trouble, and I had just merrily stumbled my way into a kidnapping.
The minute that monster turns on me, I hastily back pedal. Not quick enough though, apparently. Not with a bloody lizardy snake tongue like that (and hoo, boy, did I mention he is ugly? Downright hideous. But what can you expect from an evil gross monster? It's practically cliche, right?).
My gasp is quickly followed by a rather inelegant choking sound as I am dragged unceremoniously back towards him, his absurdly long, icky tongue around my slender neck. I dig my feet into the earth, but it's a rather futile gesture, and I end up simply leaving deep furrows in the loose top cover of the forest floor. With my odd, amber eyes wide, my heart beating a rapid, uneven rhythm inside my chest, I simply stare at him in consternation and shock for several long moments, both fear and alarm making itself swiftly known inside my breast.
My first thought though, when I can think at all, is simply, “Well, how rude.” Of course, I can't really say as much, given the chokehold he has on my neck. My next thought is simply, “Fuuuuuuuuck,” but by then I am not-so-safely ensconced in the midst of their circle and the hold slackens enough for me to at least breathe.
To be quite honest, I wasn't really paying much attention to what the white stallion said after admitting to being friends with the horrid fellow (one who apparently has a penchant for trying to kill his friends?). Admittedly, my mind is a bit frazzled at the moment, and mostly I'm just wondering how the hell I got myself into this mess. And forget about paying attention to what anyone else says or who might have joined us. Christ, I hadn't even noticed I was being followed here (and seriously, can you say creepy?).
So when there comes a small lull in the conversation, I clear my throat, instantly regretting the action. It had been rather well bruised. Still, I need to do something about excusing myself from this situation. “So, uh, I think I should go. It seems I have… made a mistake.” I start trying to edge backwards, hoping maybe I can just kinda slink out without much fuss. “I will just, uh, leave you to your business.”
Giohde