10-02-2021, 08:26 PM
Though his mother was in some of her best days when he was born, Sawbone grew to be a rather moody, troubled teenager. He has taken to wandering for days, too lazy to make the trek back through the channel to his patchwork family on Ischia.
Not that he feels as if he belongs there, anyway. Not that he feels as if he belongs anywhere.
Saw is fast asleep on a soft mossy bed close to the River, lulled into a deep slumber by the lovely background rush of the water. He rests well for one that boasts of well-entrenched brooding, ribs rising and falling with the steady, peaceful rhythm of a dreamless rest.
It is within the next moon-bright hours that the young stallion awakes, burning orange eyes flashing open with too much awareness for a creature having just been pried from slumber. Saw can sense the supernatural beat in the air, the quiet dance now tickling his feet. He rises slowly, quickly spotting several bits of fabric and decoration dangling from the surrounding tree branches.
A glittering pink streak catches his eye and though wary, Saw approaches what appears to be strands of hair flowing in the wind. When he reaches out to sniff it, he doesn’t notice the impossibly small, studded, and black shorts. Or the fish nets. Or the pink and black checkered fingerless gloves. Or the massive lip ring adorned with a gummy, spiky pink and black ball.
Once a strand of the black and pink hair touches his nose, every piece of the costume snaps onto his body. Sawbone jumps backward, but finds his body constricted by the tight clothing, now completed with a bodice-cut t-shirt featuring cartoonish neon monsters.
“What the fuck?” Saw whispers around the lip ring now jutting from his bottom lip, then peers into the shadows of the woods around him, somehow knowing that’s where this uncomfortable get-up will be bringing him.
Not that he feels as if he belongs there, anyway. Not that he feels as if he belongs anywhere.
Saw is fast asleep on a soft mossy bed close to the River, lulled into a deep slumber by the lovely background rush of the water. He rests well for one that boasts of well-entrenched brooding, ribs rising and falling with the steady, peaceful rhythm of a dreamless rest.
It is within the next moon-bright hours that the young stallion awakes, burning orange eyes flashing open with too much awareness for a creature having just been pried from slumber. Saw can sense the supernatural beat in the air, the quiet dance now tickling his feet. He rises slowly, quickly spotting several bits of fabric and decoration dangling from the surrounding tree branches.
A glittering pink streak catches his eye and though wary, Saw approaches what appears to be strands of hair flowing in the wind. When he reaches out to sniff it, he doesn’t notice the impossibly small, studded, and black shorts. Or the fish nets. Or the pink and black checkered fingerless gloves. Or the massive lip ring adorned with a gummy, spiky pink and black ball.
Once a strand of the black and pink hair touches his nose, every piece of the costume snaps onto his body. Sawbone jumps backward, but finds his body constricted by the tight clothing, now completed with a bodice-cut t-shirt featuring cartoonish neon monsters.
“What the fuck?” Saw whispers around the lip ring now jutting from his bottom lip, then peers into the shadows of the woods around him, somehow knowing that’s where this uncomfortable get-up will be bringing him.