The Valley

The Valley seemed different then it had before. Maybe it was because the seasons had changed, maybe it was because it was no longer filled with the excitement it had held not so long ago. The Neem Pech had begun here, their mission set off from here. But now they were back, having been found out. It had been to soon, not enough mayhem had been caused, havoc wreaked. Soon they would all be flocking back, to get ready to go again. If he remembered correctly, their next target was the Dewdrop Deserts. The light mythicals, and the last kingdom where these evil stallions and mares would stick out like sore-thumbs. Then onto the neutrals, where they would be recognized as evil, but not especially cared about. Then it would be the evils. There, they would blend in perfectly. It would be harder to annoy those horses, because evil things wouldn’t especially bug them. But they would get to that, when they got to it. His hooves tread upon the middle of the valley, and he waited to see what Neem Pech members had heard the leader, and if any had secretly stayed behind, if any had missed the winged stallion’s influence. Ah yes, the winged stallion. Oh how Kettin longed to figure out what his name was, and where he lived. Though the stallion hadn’t effected him personally, the Neem Pech was pretty personal to Ket. It was all he had in life, and he wasn’t going to let it fail. He needed to be remembered somehow, and he hoped for it to be as evil. Evil made more of a mark, and lasted loner. Goody-goodies just faded away, as more and more came along,. But evil deeds were always remembered, and carried more strength. Killing someone is more than saving someone’s life, because it is the latter that happens the most. Raping more than consent, for consent is the norm. Weird is what is remembered, since it is so different. And that is what Kettin will be. Remembered as a strong, proud, Neem Pech member, remembered as an evil bastard. And soon enough, he would have children to carry the fine lines of the Neem Pech. A son would be good, better than a daughter. His daughters he would not care for, much less their mothers. But a son he would be proud of, and he would teach him all he could. Fighting skills, sneaky moves, and everything. But for now, he shall choose not to dwell on the future, but the present. For he and his brothers and sisters had work to do.

ooc-Muahaha, long post. 500 words! Whoot. Read it. If you want to…I don’t really care if you do. And, oh, Mr.Archer….! Beware, you got a Lion after ya.

Tank you Georgia, for the HTML.

Played by Spoons