what we do in life echoes in eternity.
All the diplomacy he’d ever known wound up in some senator or congressman dead on the floor. It just seemed to be the way things went where he was from. The gentleman hadn’t been the most eloquent speaker or anything, but he knew his way around fairly well. The Gladiator knew what he was doing in front of a group, especially an angry group. Then again, he was used to directing that anger, being able to toss it upon something. He’d been… well, he’d been a lot of things. Now he supposed he was a lead stallion, someone that was in charge of a new place. Change wasn’t always the best thing, but sometimes it was all you had. For now it was all he had.
The mare quit trying to attack him, and The Gladiator found himself glad. His tail flicked about his haunches, swatting away at the flies that had already come from nowhere in the dry desert heat. The bugs would be few and far between, but it seemed that not even dry heat could kill off gnats and flies. It was okay, though. He was coping rather well and that was nice. The Gladiator had history in places like this. Heat and dry sand ran rivers through his history… sometimes that was nice. Other times he’d rather burry the skeleton in his closet.
He takes a hard breath, snorting softly. “It is my sincere apology that you feel cheated out of your home. It’s not my place to force you out of this place or your leadership position.” The man pauses, takes a long breath. The Gladiator hates to be the bearer of bad news. “This is a male dominated society. More men… worse men will come in without a stallion here, keeping an eye on things.” He straightens himself up in the stiff breeze, eyes falling on the newest addition to their little powwow as she approaches.
There was a woman, painted and pretty as she stood and looked upon them. His ears flicker forwards, eyeing her carefully. It seemed like he had to be more and more careful around women lately. They had teeth and claws, and they weren’t afraid to use them. “This is the Desert. I’m The Gladiator.” The introduction is short and sweet, eyes flickering without assurance between the two mares. He was either going to have his behind kicked to Timbuktu or he was going to find himself in good graces. The Gladiator didn’t know which way it would go, though. Everything was so up in the air.
THE GLADIATOR
stallion. ten. black. andalusian. |