Crotch, as always, is on the prowl looking for some mighty fine female tail. It's who he is. It's what he does. There is no changing this. So. Whatever. The obsidian steed treads lightly upon the topography, his banner held high; his petals swivel as the zephyr rustles the green spades above.
Finally he spots a damsel in distress.
Quickly, for Crotch is the fastest horse in all of Beqanna by a lot, he runs over to the fair maiden while she is still unconscious. "'Lo?" He nudges her with his soft velveteen muzzle. "Hey, are you dead?"
Noticing her scratches, he asks, "Hey, how did a cat reach your eyeball?"
Another behemoth approaches and Crotch says nothing when the femme fatale wakes, letting her speak.
Finally he spots a damsel in distress.
Quickly, for Crotch is the fastest horse in all of Beqanna by a lot, he runs over to the fair maiden while she is still unconscious. "'Lo?" He nudges her with his soft velveteen muzzle. "Hey, are you dead?"
Noticing her scratches, he asks, "Hey, how did a cat reach your eyeball?"
Another behemoth approaches and Crotch says nothing when the femme fatale wakes, letting her speak.