Mirror mirror on the wall

[Gryffen]

What was happening in Silver Cove wasn’t a secret from him. The raven on his shoulder spoke to him often from what his fellow flock had seen. An Iron Stallion resided on a cliff in the Cove. The children were sick and twisted things and even more interesting, they ran the place together. Oh yes, he was well aware of what they said about the Cove. It’s what enticed him to Killgore to begin with. She was a mare who knew how to please a stallion. There’s had been a mutual and consensual evening which is not something he could usually attest to. How could he not pass up the offer considering the kind of offspring she had produced in the Cove? It was too good an opportunity to turn away. Crimson eyes watch them from the jagged edge of the mountainside from which he stands. They come to the border, mare and child, and his eyes narrow although a thin smile spreads on his lips. The air is extremely chilly despite Spring’s arrival and he basks in the coldness as clouds thicken behind him. Suddenly his angel wings spread and he steps off the ledge, catching the current and gliding easily towards the border. A few beats from his massive feathery appendages, a few minutes in the air, and then his hooves spring lightly on the sparse grass as he lands. A wolfish grin replacing the thin smile instantly. ”Killgore.” He greets her quietly as his wings fold back into his side. ”A pleasure to see you again. Welcome to the Mountains.” There’s a thread of teasing in his words, oh he remembered their encounter quite well. It was one he wouldn’t mind having again. With her he is the charming individual, not the torturous cruel master he is with the others. Kindred spirits have no need to be broken after all. ”Have you grown tired of the Cove? You’re more than welcome to join us here you know.” The raven flutters on his shoulder, beady eyes staring at the child as if it’s a shiny object it wishes to acquire. It’s Master certainly wishes to take her as part of his herd but she is Killdare’s mother after all… He supposes he has to have a little respect. Turning his attention to the foal at her side, he takes in the child. His child and another son at that. But this one has his red eyes. ”Well done…” He is obviously pleased at what she’s brought him. Those red eyes were a family trait after all and seemed to only be inherited by those that were worthy of them. Although Minette had birthed him a vicious little colt with horns growing out of his head. The crop of children this year were turning out better than he expected. Lowering his muzzle and exhaling cool breath that mists about the boy’s head, crimson eyes meeting crimson eyes. ”And what does your mother call you?” Gryffen - - - - - The Big Bad Wolf