PSYCHEDELiC
i lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon skirt
but i make these high heels work
Persephone didn’t know. Psychedelic exhaled and appeared visibly relieved. He remembered glancing back when he’d fled the Forest scene, expecting the pounding hooves to be Shamwari coming after him only to instead see Persephone. Rage became her – he remembered how her nostrils flared, how her lips peeled back and her neck snaked outward as she tried to grab him and tug him back – and Psychedelic had known fear.
Eventually she’d drawn up, he’d plunged into the ocean and swam knowing his life depended on it. A piece of him tried to pull him back and see what had become of Talya, but…
Wait… didn’t Aurora say…
Psychedelic’s eyes narrowed and his ears twitched as he refocused on the very pregnant and very terrified mare in front of him. “What do you mean, you didn’t tell Talya?” His voice rose. He was too afraid to hope. Was Talya alive? No… he’d heard the snap! He’d seen her lie still! He stepped forward – closer.
He enjoyed how much he affected Aurora. Neck stretching, his whiskers brushed the skin of her neck, his lips moved, tracing a shape against her. It was almost playful, how he toyed with her, and his eyes jumped to her face frequently, so he could see her every reaction to his touch. Would she cringe away or stand, trembling, and accept her fate should he attack her again? Would she, in spite of herself, lean into him?
Oh boy! I missed this.
“Aurora,” he whispered, peering up at her, head tilted and mouth tantalizingly close to her jugular. “What the fuck do you mean, you haven’t told Talya?” His eyes narrowed and when he spoke next his voice was hard with anger. “My daughter is dead.”
His ears turned back and he brushed his whiskered lips down the line of her neck again. “Did you come to rub her death in my face?”
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