I walk alone amongst the throbbing pulses, their unsanitary humping. I believe I have lost a child along the way.

Oh well.

I can feel a smile tugging my lips into a smirk as the dead grass is ripped from the place just before my blue hooves. I do not want to step on the dead things. Paltry rubbish. Tree trunks splinter and rocks dip away at the very flick of my mind's eye, my very whim.

It feels good.

The pale ghost that colors my eye glances around the meadow with the ever quivering smirk upon my lips. The mares coo and faun over snoring stallions, spent with the primal act of fucking. They bore me. So instead I find a male within my focus. The darkness of his skin is similar to mine but where i wear a crown of white hair, his is dark. I move near him with a crooked grin, trembling the very soil at our hooves in little quakes. I do not need to impress him. No. He is only a man. He is not my god. He is not my maker.

When I stand just off from him, the smirk slides away and I examine the complexity of this enigmatic creature.

"Exquisite." The word curls away from the darkness of my throat, a flash of pink from the muscle that has laid dormant for months. "Your name." I do not ask. I do not croon. I do not bend.

I do not fear the death that may lay just beyond the door that I am currently knocking.