Although I was merely offering an explanation for my absence, Dreadscale’s reaction to my mishap is simply perfect. Unexpected, but perfect just the same.

In truth I have been a bit ashamed of my encounter, as if my wounds are physical evidence of my mortality, proof that I’m no longer as vigilant or as tough as I once was. I have always been self-reliant and to think that I cannot watch my own back is unnerving to say the least; I have pissed far too many souls off for that quality to waver. The wild looking bachelor continues, confirming my fears of a dying Lagoon with a simple ‘dunno’. The herd wasn’t exactly strong when I left, but there were numbers, and with Felony’s dictatorship we did feel somewhat united by our goals.

Despite the implications of this news, a snort of laughter erupts from my maw at his description. ‘Kinda’ weird’ could have been used to describe any number of the bachelors I once lived with, including myself at one stage. ”All mares are kinda’ weird” I quip. I have never hidden the fact that I despise the opposite sex, their existence nothing more than a necessary annoyance. That is, of course, until breeding season rolls around. It is then that their usefulness outweighs my hate and I seek to spread my bloodlines whether they want me or not.

With a bob of my crown I motion towards the shade offered by some nearby trees and take a small step towards them, inviting Dreadscale to join me. ”So do you consider yourself a Lagoon local, or are you simply passing through?” It would be beneficial to have an ally here in the Lagoon, and in life to I suppose. I can’t claim to be the friendliest of brutes, my dry humour and callous attitude effectively ending any friendships before they had chance to blossom, but time is a funny thing.


OOC/ Thanks for the vote <3

FRIESIAN MUTT | SIXTEEN TWO HANDS | TWELVE YEARS