Morgayne
The pink girl squeaks and stomps her small black hoof when Malone pulls the first bunch of thorns but she does not glower at him, only draws a deep breath and continues to pull needles. He is faster than she was on her own, better able to see and grab the tiny spikes. She grunts at his friendly compliment, pausing to focus on him for a minute, feeling obligated to answer him. “Malone is a bit like Morgayne.” Its not that like it, but she can’t bring herself to say that anything is cool (not really sure what the word means and so wary of using it). Going back to plucking spines she warns the boy not to jump cactuses and he laughs. Her eyes narrow a fraction but the soft peals are full and sweet instead of mocking. Why is everyone else so confusing? He must already know not to jump cactuses. Maybe his mother told him. She has learned that some people’s mothers tell them not to do things.
Once all the sharps are removed Malone waltzes out in front of her. The pink child gives herself a shake and though all the tiny punctures hurt she can feel they are empty. Their muzzles bump and she looks critically at the pricks and cuts, little wells of blood, on the boys too handsome face.
Morgayne does not want to like Malone and almost resists the boy entirely, almost leaves and does not say goodbye...but he says he likes her fangs and in spite of herself her dark lips pull back from those pointy teeth her nose wrinkles with a very small grin. This melts then into a petulant frown. “Hold still Malone.” She says and pushes her small muzzle against the bridge of his nose, long lashes falling over her pink and blue eyes as she pictures his face back as it was (though she cannot pull back the blood already spilled). She manages to heal her own wounds at the same time and draws away with a sneeze. “There!” She declares with a succinct bob of her head followed by another sneeze.
when they finally come, what'll you do to them
gonna decimate them like you did to me?
will you leave them stunned and stuttering
@[Malone]
