09-02-2016, 07:05 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
Hygiene is the last thing on the male’s mind. Though it never has been really - he had always just changed his form if his usual ragged self did not impress. Now that he is stuck this way, he should possibly give more consideration to his looks. His inky pelt is covered in spots of sap from the pines of his beloved home, his feathered hooves still carry its needles. Black tresses fall in tangles around his dark eyes. Perhaps he was a mess, but ultimately he was preoccupied with other thoughts.
The loss of his Valley had wounded him deeper than he could have ever imagined. Surely, he had never thought that she could just vanish as she had. She had been so powerful, holding the beast’s heart in her tight chains. Now he was free (theoretically) but he couldn’t handle the loneliness of it.
Perhaps that is what pushes him to be social today. Or maybe it is just the natural inclination after a tragedy to find others that have survived. To ensure that you are, indeed, among the living. His wish is to simply awaken from this nightmare, but as time passes the reality of his situation solidifies in his mind. As he wanders aimlessly through the meadow he finds a mare standing by herself. He does not recognize her, but she seems almost as lost as he feels.
So he approaches. Whatever ties they may have had to distinguish them once are so blurred now that he cannot head them. His lust for the fairer sex has left him in the wake of these changes, so she has little to fear from this homeless vagrant. He simply nods in greeting, and with words that sound choked says “Is your home gone too?”
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N