08-19-2017, 12:36 PM
Which brings him to the field - a common ground for the "homeless" of Beqanna...or, in his case, for those who do not seek a home at all. Many stare down at him as he passes - he is used to it, and honestly, he does not care. His size means nothing to him...all that matters is his mind. His mind is what surpasses most people in his path.
He hears her call from a mile away - a beckoning...a challenge. The small, but mighty stag feels the edges of his lips tug into a mischievous smile. Maybe someone worth going to...maybe not. He would soon find out. His short legs must travel at a quick pace to keep up with his curiosity - and once he arrives, he stays hidden in the grasses that tower over his frame - something most can not do...unless, of course, their genetics allow it.
He is not the first to respond to the mare's call...a shadow stallion approaches her - he is massive, easily twice the height of Modicum Mortem. Of course, height is just a trait...it doesn't mean much. Life is but strategy; if you are hungry enough, if you are unyielding in your cause, something as minuscule as height will not deter you.
Mortem watches as the stallion encircles the spotted mare, his words like venom. He is swift in his words, and in his actions. From his spot in the grasses, he sees the tenacious stallion grin as he is able to steal a sniff of the mare without so much as a huff from her end. He could be a deserving colleague...or adversary, whichever works.
The mare, however, is unswayed by his wicked charm. She responds with the flick of her tail; her tongue is biting, eyes intensely burning into the shadow's. What would come of this interaction? Mortem not only intended to find out...he intended to be involved. They both seemed like him - intelligent, manipulative...evil. But, he couldn't be certain; so he stayed hidden in the grasses, eyes gazing at them to see what their intentions were before he would reveal himself.
All life was, was a waiting game.
|Proceed with Caution|