03-20-2017, 07:41 PM
Deathwish
im a DIY pioneer, they tryna get involved
Grandmere was crazy. Her mother was insane. Deathwish wasn’t sure what she was, but she enjoyed it. She certainly was not a girl that was crafted by the light, and she moved like sin. Something handed down by her mother’s line, no doubt. The young mare walked with sensuality as silky as sin, and the grey lavender of her pelt was reminiscent of a poor widow in half mourning. Except that Deathwish was not sad when something died.
She reveled in it.
Being able to control the life and death of something with the palm of her hand, the flick of an ear, or the shift of that beautiful, well muscled flank—she was powerful in her own right, and her family never let her forget it. And thus, when Grandmere had come to her, and bid her to wait in the forest, she walked along boredly, rolling her eyes all the while, making no mystery of her wearabouts. And when she heard that voice, sickly sweet… She rolled her eyes again, flipping her thick black tail and quite literally doing a hairflip as she rotated her body. Hello lovely girl.
Lovely Indeed. So this is why she’d been called like a dog. For the pompous bag of wind grandfather. Family duties call once again. Kirin must have something up his sleeve. “You only think me lovely because I look like you,” she clicks dismissively. Her tone is wrought with derision, much like her father’s. “Getting bland in your old age, great-grandfather? I haven’t seen you around much these last two years… and yet now, I smell your stench on every female in this forest… and some of the men…”
Sexuality runs rampant in her family. They can’t help it. They are beautiful, and powerful.
And they knew it.
If you have it, flaunt it baby.
“Why did Grandmere suggest so urgently that I see you?”
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