Freedom.

There is no such thing as freedom.

There is distance, space, air, surely. But there is no such thing as freedom. For when you leave another land, you come onto more. And for every land there is a leader. Without leaders, there is anarchy. And while we all know how I thirst for anarchy, most of society fears it. And therefore there are always leaders. And when a new land is discovered, a new leader is crowned. And that leader rules you, that leader controls you; you are alive for that leader. And then you are trapped again. You are yet again, chained by society.

Freedom, that word is a utopia. It is an ideal place, but not a reality.

I watch her, well, Turkish and I watch her. She is odd. She walks odd and acts like an equine and we just aren’t used to that here. Here we are modernized and evolved into social, manipulative freaks who feel emotions and eat each other’s feelings (literally). Here, we are the farthest thing from horses. We are monsters trapped in the pelt of a mammal that we long outgrew. She will change, they all change. Even the new ones, the alien ones, they change.

Soon she will be a modernized Beqannian. Poor little doe.

Should we go say hello? Turkish always asks, but I know it is never a question. It is just his way of insisting I do something without being belligerent enough to make me angry.

We should.

Well?

Alright, we will.

I know she has bedded down to sleep—I see that I am not blind—but really, I don’t care if she is tired. See, my goal is to bring her to my kingdom and add another recruit to the rankings. My job is to convince her my home is safe, and the field isn’t.

I know exactly how to do this.

I feel Turkish slither from my neck and wind his way down my leg. All ten feet of him crawls across the floor, the sight still making me slightly uneasy. I am lucky he is on my side, to be eaten by him is an unbearable thought.

He has disappeared by the time I reach vocal distance of the female. She is an ebony black—jet black, even—with matching blue eyes. Her’s are just as piercing as mine, with the most magnificent hue of sky. I nod to her, smiling has never been my thing.

“Well, you seem a little far from your home.” I state, it isn’t a question. I can tell she is a foreigner. I can see she is a fresh face. How? She is traditional. That is how.

“I am Smother.” Yet, another statement. I told you I wasn’t very practiced at the game. My eyes meet hers, surely she is annoyed at my wake up call but really, she owes me. Mares are targets here, and you can be the strongest of all but she won’t just be battling physical mass. She will be battling magic as well.

“It really isn’t safe here,” I reach behind my shoulder to nip at a sudden itch, biting hard on my skin before refocusing my attention.

On cue, I hear the blades of grass shift as my familiar albino Burmese Python slither through the grass. He hisses a threat.

“Maybe you should get up.”

He looks angry, thirsty almost before rewinding himself back up my leg and curling himself around my neck like a scarf. “Don’t mind Turkish, he really is polite. He is just very hungry.”

I watch her momentarily, drinking in her appearance and debating on whether she is the right fit. She has something about her—something. I am not big on compliments, in fact I don’t give out any. However, she may have what it takes.

“I don’t extend my offer often,” a little white lie,“but my home is looking for strong females. We are a female ‘herd’ so to speak, a kingdom. The Jungle. We only recruit the strongest and most intelligent hearts of women, and I think you might fit the bill. We can provide safety, shelter, food, water, and rewards should you work for it.

“I can show you, bring you there; if you like.”