I.
The sunshine dragon stirred from her high nest of salt-blanched stones, claws crunching across small skeletons that littered her sandstone ledge. A soft hiss rumbling from her scaled throat as she leered down at the marbled stallion who idled at her grandfather’s borders, pieces of rock crumbling beneath her to the dunes below.
She was growing large – almost too large to keep holding to this form as often as she did. But the war-wrought girl’s heart was filled with fire and she had always felt more dragon than horse.
Was she not born of a golden, jeweled egg, anyway?
II.
Volaire loved the way her prey’s breath tasted as they flailed wildly, terrified in her claws – fear tasted beautiful. She loved the exquisite way flesh gave way to her predator’s teeth and the way blood dripped thick and warm down the back of her throat.
The girl climbed down the side of the rock-face, back claws and talon-tipped wings allowing her to crawl down the crag like a Desert cat down a palm tree. But when she reached the dune she forced herself to shift, already hating the way her hooves felt too awkward – too useless in the soft sand.
III.
Long legs carry her to the border where the smoke colored stallion waited, pearlescent eyes pouring across him curiously as she stopped before him. “Who are you?” She asks, tongue slipping across her golden lips instinctively despite her current form. Her tone is without malice, just an inquiring mind’s prying. Her eyes travel greedily across his face, shamelessly.
And they linger too long on his throat. Innocently, of course..
Every lie was an inch of rope…
I only stuck around to tie the knot
& I enjoyed watching you struggle as you hung yourself
