05-30-2015, 11:22 AM
Aha iron! That's what he was made of.
Ghoest is still dancing inside, still looking for an excuse to flee without reprimand but she's losing hope. At the very least, his words were still friendly, and he hadn't really given her any reason not to trust him. But he was a stallion, that trust was bound to be broken at a moments notice. The mare really isn't paying attention when the soil before her suddenly bursts into the air, sending up a soft mass of metal. She jumped, but she still couldn't bring herself to run, instead watching the stag play with the iron in mid-air, like a child molding play-doh. He twisted it into a faux horn that he went on to press into his forehead, and speaks. No, not really that fun. Ghoest forces a small, nervous smile in the corner of her mouth, more out of politeness than anything else.
He speaks once more, and even with all this open space around her the young minx felt cornered, trapped. He offers his name, not that it was very comforting. Khaos? Really? How was that name supposed to make her feel better about him? She ponders everything else he has told her, he could offer protection, that was clear, and he claimed that he did have plenty of food for her. Regardless of his attitude, just having a steady supply of food and water would be a step up from her last herd. She also notices that he only had a place in mind... Ghoest wasn't stupid, that meant she would be the only mare so far, with nobody to stand up and protect her besides herself, and the scars covering her body were proof enough of how good she was at protecting herself.
Go with him! If you try to run you'll be having about as much fun as a turkey on Thanksgiving! her mind screamed at her as she backed off another step. But since when did she listen to her own advice? "Well, Khaos, um, sir, my mother always called me Ghoest, so I suppose that's my name." And another step backwards. "I don't mean to be rude, sir, but I was thinking maybe, perhaps, I should stay here for a while longer, you know, rather than, um, going with you..."
Way to go Ghoest, way to ignore the only sensible thing to do. In her mind, she wasn't really running from him, and she hoped he would leave her be. Who was she kidding? With his size the brute could basically crush her beneath a hoof. And Ghoest really did regret saying anything of the sort, turning her head away instinctively to avoid teeth or flailing hoofs. Even now after she had had the courage to speak up a bit, Ghoest still couldn't run, it was as if she was glued to the earth. Too many beatings had taught her that running does no good if you can't outrun your opponent.
Words: 495
Muse: n/a
Tags: Khaos
Notes: poor little Ghoest... can't learn to keep her trap shut.
Ghoest is still dancing inside, still looking for an excuse to flee without reprimand but she's losing hope. At the very least, his words were still friendly, and he hadn't really given her any reason not to trust him. But he was a stallion, that trust was bound to be broken at a moments notice. The mare really isn't paying attention when the soil before her suddenly bursts into the air, sending up a soft mass of metal. She jumped, but she still couldn't bring herself to run, instead watching the stag play with the iron in mid-air, like a child molding play-doh. He twisted it into a faux horn that he went on to press into his forehead, and speaks. No, not really that fun. Ghoest forces a small, nervous smile in the corner of her mouth, more out of politeness than anything else.
He speaks once more, and even with all this open space around her the young minx felt cornered, trapped. He offers his name, not that it was very comforting. Khaos? Really? How was that name supposed to make her feel better about him? She ponders everything else he has told her, he could offer protection, that was clear, and he claimed that he did have plenty of food for her. Regardless of his attitude, just having a steady supply of food and water would be a step up from her last herd. She also notices that he only had a place in mind... Ghoest wasn't stupid, that meant she would be the only mare so far, with nobody to stand up and protect her besides herself, and the scars covering her body were proof enough of how good she was at protecting herself.
Go with him! If you try to run you'll be having about as much fun as a turkey on Thanksgiving! her mind screamed at her as she backed off another step. But since when did she listen to her own advice? "Well, Khaos, um, sir, my mother always called me Ghoest, so I suppose that's my name." And another step backwards. "I don't mean to be rude, sir, but I was thinking maybe, perhaps, I should stay here for a while longer, you know, rather than, um, going with you..."
Way to go Ghoest, way to ignore the only sensible thing to do. In her mind, she wasn't really running from him, and she hoped he would leave her be. Who was she kidding? With his size the brute could basically crush her beneath a hoof. And Ghoest really did regret saying anything of the sort, turning her head away instinctively to avoid teeth or flailing hoofs. Even now after she had had the courage to speak up a bit, Ghoest still couldn't run, it was as if she was glued to the earth. Too many beatings had taught her that running does no good if you can't outrun your opponent.
Words: 495
Muse: n/a
Tags: Khaos
Notes: poor little Ghoest... can't learn to keep her trap shut.