a not quite stallion of a lanky sort danced his way with a skip & a snort into a land south of his own of where he had sort of but not really quite found himself a home. instead he squalled through the mire like the wind, like a storm, like hell on hooves, making his way unknowingly into a den of wolves; into a land of crazies where maybe his crazy would fit right in. the idea brings a grin to his lips as he thinks- as best he can- of the possibilities in this. would he find a home where at last he was considered sane? or was this an inane dream of a mindless bane? one way to find out, the long-legged fiend must move forward, never back. no no! never go back. going back was going back to them & they were the reason he ended up like this. no, always better to move ahead into the unknown.

as he lifted & shifted through mud & muck, his hooves & legs fighting against getting stuck, his brown eyes caught sight of a pair of brutes ahead. yes yes, let the games begin. eyes glazed over with insanity he didn't quite try to hide his inability to gather his thoughts or speech into something coherent; they could figure it out, they had brain cells & clout. wandering closer, he joined the pair, looking back & forth with a goofy, lop-sided grin, feeling the tension but not feeling awkward with it as others would. a giggle erupted into a guffaw & he laughed & laughed so loudly from his maw. once again looking back & forth between the two with eyes unfocused, he stared straight ahead looking at neither one before making fun. "kiss & make friends boys!"