Of Hamilton & Yasmine
The telepath makes his way to Sylva, trailing in the pale stallion's wake, in time to see him with a crowd present. Five or six other equines were positioned about Gryffen, their attentions all rested upon him as he spoke and issued commands. As naturally as breathing, Voltage slips invisible fingers into their minds, carefully and so gently, so as not to inflict any touch upon the group's inner thoughts. He merely wished to know their names, and only that. Getting to know them the usual old fashioned way would suffice for him, even though the bay found it to be a tedious activity compared to simply plucking any information he wanted from that gray matter hidden between a horse's ears. Gryffen indicates that the mare he is eying so lustfully is his second in command, and Voltage spares her a curious glance, brown eyes sweeping her from nose to tail in casual inspection. He doesn't need to read her thoughts to know that she's a vicious one. It fairly glows in her eyes, that desire to maim and torture; he'll need to keep on her good side indeed. Voltage fears no one, but he has a deep love for his own skin, whole and unbattered. Whatever he had to do to keep it that way was fine with him. He adds his words to the conversation once Crevan has spoken, nodding to the wolfshifter that had been his companion-recruiter on the way out of the Field. "I'm known as Voltage, and I am a telepath.....I believe that the intelligence caste is therefore best suited for me. " The cremello stallion seemed to be heading elsewhere with the mare he had nipped, but is still close enough to be within earshot. Idly, Voltage wonders what his own assignment will be, since Sylva's new ruler seems to be handing one out to each of his newfound underlings.
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