when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
Women. All these years of evolution on the earth and still they seem to forget the backlash that comes along when you play with others emotions. The mare he’s singled out is confused (decidedly so, anyone would be) but it’s not for her to understand just yet what Wyrm has in store for her. This place is wild and she had chosen to make it her home - far be it from him to lead her every step of the way. She rears, but he’s faster than her (faster than most) and the aim is well-placed but still falls short. “Now you’ve gone and made me -”
“Angry.” He was going to say ‘Angry’, but instead what he feels is something that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. Silence overcomes him first and then the knowledge that something else is at play here strikes him. The emotion that’s building in his chest is seizing his mind, numbing his senses, drawing him further into himself. And then, the second mare joins them. “Of course.” He thinks, eyes slowly turning to peer at her while she talks to his prey.
“Too fucking scared out of his mind…” She tells the lone girl, but Wyrm is very, very far from talking at this point.
If Heda had been smart instead of a worthless breeding piece of meat, she might have thought twice about pushing this particular emotion on him.
What she doesn’t know (because she is young, and the youth of this world are always incredibly stupid) is that Wyrm has been steeled for this sort of thing since he was a colt. Heartfire had taken his sight when he was a boy, shown him real terror, and taught him to harness it against those who would destroy him. What the navy-tinted girl doesn’t know is that his very trait relies on his ability to remain totally in control of himself, and when that control was sent akilter, it could produce terrible, terrible things. The fear, now rising into a crescendo of true horror, sends his body convulsing - skin flashing bright colors while his appendages seemingly bubble and twist. He locks his eyes upon Heda, knows that the fear comes from her, and then uses it to rationalize.
She was the source of his fear, so Wyrm would do to her what he usually did to everything that caused him to be afraid. He would destroy her.
His mouth flashes open, rows of elongated, needle-like teeth splayed outward as his jaw unhinges and widens. A screech, high-pitched and unbearable, breaks the calm between them as his vocal chords warp. Horns sprout and curve from his skull (one, two, three …) and his hooves split and widen into massive paws that unsheath horrid black claws. He’s an unholy mesh of animals that grows to an unnatural size and seized by a fear that has his eyes rolling into the back of his skull. “DIE!” He screeches, before jerking rapidly across the few feet of distance between them, front paws opened wide with the intent to grip Heda's tender flesh in a bloody hug should he catch her. And if (by some miracle) she can escape his claws, his jaw will be waiting to render her to ribbons. He can’t see straight anymore; can only smell her scent and that of the other mares whose life Heda has now put in extreme danger.
There’s barely even time for the two of them to get to know one another.
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Wyrm doesn't like feeling things. This is what happens when he does. /shrugs/ should've used "calm" lol.