09-25-2017, 08:04 PM
a ghost in the darkness.
One by one the pregnant mares drop their bellies followed quickly by their foals. He was skeptical of the boy born to him by the mischievous Sylva diplomat, the boy hidden in the cave with no apparent traits. It was only it's sex that kept it alive, so young and already having so much it needed to prove. A boy to perhaps carry his line… Unless he proved to be worthless stock. His best is yet to come, the tantalizing viciousness of the cobalt and ebony bluebird delaying the process. But he would have her and his heir eventually.
Sylva becomes more familiar to him (as he is to the forest) every day. He is becoming accustomed to it’s secret deer paths, the twisted trees, the private thickets and undiscovered caves. He watches his subjects, even if they don’t know it. He needs no magic to hide in the shadows, having spent many years learning the art of skulking and covering himself within shadows. Today his ghostly figure slinks between the bent autumn branches. Despite the greenery of the forest floor, the leaves of the trees never change. There’s always an air of expectant decay, of the coming of death. Perhaps he should have taken this place to begin with. Then again, they would have all missed out on so much fun.
Crimson eyes easily find the groaning mare, already a child by her side and in the middle of expelling another. The “clown king” was nowhere to be found but the stallion had a weird fascination with children and he thought it best to stay and watch. Not out of concern for the mare but because his subjects were his. He decides if they live or die, if they stay or go. These foals could accomplish great feats in his name and so they are worth something. For now.
The second child slips free from the womb and he eyes it with scrutiny. The mare is still not done and he is quite fascinated that there could possibly be three. Alas, the third is dead on arrival. Still, two new servants for his dark causes. He is pleased even if they aren’t his own. ”Congrats.” Comes his whisper from the trees as he makes himself slight visible. ”I wouldn’t linger for too long.” This kingdom harbored monsters of all sorts and he will make them happy as long as they continue to serve loyally. Whatever it takes. His red gaze lingers on the dead foal before meeting the speckled mare’s with a raised brow. He could not protect a dead child from the hungry clown, it was free game. The other two however could be spared from the hunt.
Sylva becomes more familiar to him (as he is to the forest) every day. He is becoming accustomed to it’s secret deer paths, the twisted trees, the private thickets and undiscovered caves. He watches his subjects, even if they don’t know it. He needs no magic to hide in the shadows, having spent many years learning the art of skulking and covering himself within shadows. Today his ghostly figure slinks between the bent autumn branches. Despite the greenery of the forest floor, the leaves of the trees never change. There’s always an air of expectant decay, of the coming of death. Perhaps he should have taken this place to begin with. Then again, they would have all missed out on so much fun.
Crimson eyes easily find the groaning mare, already a child by her side and in the middle of expelling another. The “clown king” was nowhere to be found but the stallion had a weird fascination with children and he thought it best to stay and watch. Not out of concern for the mare but because his subjects were his. He decides if they live or die, if they stay or go. These foals could accomplish great feats in his name and so they are worth something. For now.
The second child slips free from the womb and he eyes it with scrutiny. The mare is still not done and he is quite fascinated that there could possibly be three. Alas, the third is dead on arrival. Still, two new servants for his dark causes. He is pleased even if they aren’t his own. ”Congrats.” Comes his whisper from the trees as he makes himself slight visible. ”I wouldn’t linger for too long.” This kingdom harbored monsters of all sorts and he will make them happy as long as they continue to serve loyally. Whatever it takes. His red gaze lingers on the dead foal before meeting the speckled mare’s with a raised brow. He could not protect a dead child from the hungry clown, it was free game. The other two however could be spared from the hunt.
Gryffen