07-29-2016, 05:58 PM
Making friends was hard, especially for Fart, thus he couldn’t say he really had any- not of the equine sort. He had only the one, a human, sort of. A fairy, a fairy godfather, or, he had been once. Yes Grumble was the only friend Fart had ever known, one that offered him kind words and gentle touches. He missed Grumble terribly, the thought finding his features and pulling them down even more severely than they had been. Fart was a terrible mope, looking like a rat in a rainstorm and of course he wasn't even wet, not a cloud in sight to threaten moisture. From woman to man he looked, watching as the grey one’s eyes tickled and twitched and in response he stepped back two paces. “I’m sorry Xylo,” he said, head hung and apologizing even without anyone commenting on his smell.
“I don’t mean to offend, I can go away if you like,” he was a broken thing, not just mentally but physically. Fart could recall times of pain, torture and bright rooms with blood. He didn’t dare tell a soul though, mostly because he shook with the telling and also because they might think him crazy. He was already stinky, no reason to be the town nut as well. The roan can’t even muster a laugh at the female’s joke, but he does manage a smile, small and meek as it is. Already his front teeth glinted through his spliced lip and it did not take much to appear to be amused, even if inside he was still very unsure of this encounter.
She surprises him, the woman, even if their conversation is sparse and broken it is much more than he has ever had with those like himself. He never once thought of his name suiting him or not, he wasn't sure if it should. “It doesn’t?,” he asked, unsure of how to process this new thought. The green roan didn’t have much but he did have a name, it was the only one he ever knew, well, not entirely. There had been other names, mostly teases, like smelly, stinky, loser or gross. He didn’t much like the other words but Fart was okay enough, even if it in itself was a cruel calling. “Well, it’s the only name I’ve got,” his muddy eyes almost cross as he thinks deeply on it for a moment, “do you have more than one name then?” Is that what was supposed to happen, one should have multiple monikers by which to be summoned. It was a touch and go appeal to the roan, not sure if he liked it but it wasn’t an altogether terrible notion.
“That’s okay though, I don’t think girls are silly, you’re aren’t. You seem nice to me, are the others like you, the girls?” Fart didn’t know much about women, hardly anything to be sure. He had bedded a few, women out of their minds surely, too desperate to find another.
“Well, I suppose I don’t have much of anywhere else to go,” her next question answered without much thought, there wasn’t much too it really. “And, suppose I am lonely, or I am alone, or both..” The last words trail off, indiscernible to present company and Fart’s eyes take a far off look. Perhaps he remembered not being alone, of course he did, perhaps he remembered once being warm by the fire and feeling loved.
“I don’t mean to offend, I can go away if you like,” he was a broken thing, not just mentally but physically. Fart could recall times of pain, torture and bright rooms with blood. He didn’t dare tell a soul though, mostly because he shook with the telling and also because they might think him crazy. He was already stinky, no reason to be the town nut as well. The roan can’t even muster a laugh at the female’s joke, but he does manage a smile, small and meek as it is. Already his front teeth glinted through his spliced lip and it did not take much to appear to be amused, even if inside he was still very unsure of this encounter.
She surprises him, the woman, even if their conversation is sparse and broken it is much more than he has ever had with those like himself. He never once thought of his name suiting him or not, he wasn't sure if it should. “It doesn’t?,” he asked, unsure of how to process this new thought. The green roan didn’t have much but he did have a name, it was the only one he ever knew, well, not entirely. There had been other names, mostly teases, like smelly, stinky, loser or gross. He didn’t much like the other words but Fart was okay enough, even if it in itself was a cruel calling. “Well, it’s the only name I’ve got,” his muddy eyes almost cross as he thinks deeply on it for a moment, “do you have more than one name then?” Is that what was supposed to happen, one should have multiple monikers by which to be summoned. It was a touch and go appeal to the roan, not sure if he liked it but it wasn’t an altogether terrible notion.
“That’s okay though, I don’t think girls are silly, you’re aren’t. You seem nice to me, are the others like you, the girls?” Fart didn’t know much about women, hardly anything to be sure. He had bedded a few, women out of their minds surely, too desperate to find another.
“Well, I suppose I don’t have much of anywhere else to go,” her next question answered without much thought, there wasn’t much too it really. “And, suppose I am lonely, or I am alone, or both..” The last words trail off, indiscernible to present company and Fart’s eyes take a far off look. Perhaps he remembered not being alone, of course he did, perhaps he remembered once being warm by the fire and feeling loved.
dont you know that youre toxic?
