paint it black; any

[Lior]

dark son of gunsynd

His head begins to hurt. The pump of blood and anger makes his skin sear and feel too tight. Lior wanted to be away from all this. He wanted the coolness of his cave. The comfort of dripping rocks and the scent of damp, dark air. Lids close over the pewter of his eyes as he calms himself, fighting to control the burn of hatred that threatened to take possession of his mind and body. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. His eyes click open systematically, staring at the dark stallion. Despite the struggle to pin his ears, the male is smart enough to listen. Gunsynd was not one to waste his time or breath on anything that did not benefit him. He was here for a purpose. Lior can feel Igni creep up his side as he still remains blocking her. Lior could not vocalize that he had any feelings for the young mare but something drove him to protect her. Perhaps it was because she was a mare, perhaps it was the simple fact that everyone needed protection from Gunsynd. One ear bends and twists as Igni speaks softly behind him. "What?" His gaze is broken away from Gunsynd in the shock of her words. "Chosen one? CHOSEN ONE?!" The ugly red beast of his anger breaks free from it's iron cage as spittle flies from the edges of his lips, the silver eyes blazing as his head whips back to bore down upon his father. "What kind of shit are you feeding her, Gunsynd?" Lior does not try to bite back the rawness of his hatred. Then Lior hears the last bits of Gunsynd's words and confusion flickers like candlelight over the dark face. He can hear Igni fluttering for words, shuffling her feet in the dirt as she tries to answer. Lior cared about the young mare. They had lived rather shortly in the Tundra together and he did have a bit of fondness in the depths of his heart but now...now she had simply followed at Gunsynd because Lior and he looked similarly? Oh Gods of Beqanna. "She is foolish...far too young for your tastes, Gunsynd." The stallion spats the words "She doesn't know the consequences of her actions." Lior ignores the roan now and any protest she may have. He can no longer feel the warmth of her breath on him and knows she is moving away from the shield of his body. Instead, he stares at his mirror image and braces for the hell to unleash. If she were more informed, she would stay where she was but Lior can not predict the speckled mare for he does not know how deep Gunsynd's claws were in her. LIOR