I'LL TELL YOU MY SINS AND YOU CAN SHARPEN YOUR KNIFE
It had been some time since he had been disgraced. The once-king found himself wandering the mainland, not in any particular rush to hurry back to the lagoon. It wasn't the worst, he supposed; but he had grown to love the shore in his short time there. He had allowed his guard to drop, hadn't patrolled as best he should have. He was lazy, and it had returned to bite him. The commons were a good a place as any, he decided, to skulk about. He wasn't sure what he wanted, or even what he was looking for.
At least until a familiar scent wafted by.
Following his quivering nostrils, he pushed his way through the throng of mares and stallions. It doesn't take him long to find her. She's cursing under her breath, ears flat to her neck, and gnashing her teeth like the devil when his pale gaze falls on her. And pregnant. Heavily pregnant. He supposed he wasn't a failure at everything. She is somehow intimidating and charming the way she stalks around with a switching tail.
"I suppose that's mine," he purrs, drawing closer, a stupid half grin across his lips. Though his jaw is clearly tense and his muscles poised. Despite the laissez-faire first appearance, he wasn't taking chances of dropping his guard. "I never did get your name," he says, pulling up beside her, clearly keen on invading her personal space. "But you can tell me all about it on the walk south." He presses closer, clearly aiming to herd her toward the lagoon. The smirk on his lips does nothing to hide the flash of pearly whites, nor does it hide the threat of their use. |
|