the big, bay boy feels frustration fuming from the snappish shadow, the sentiment a reality when the smaller stallion strikes & snaps out at the ditzy, dizzying dope dancing 'round. the swift strike slashes cannon & a red rivulet ripples down, down, down, dripping decidedly to the ground, the ground which holds up the two strangers in the night. next the shadow goes for the jugular like a jaguar, a jackal, a jumping spider (yes a spider, spiders are the worst!). the fool swings his head high from the harrowing assault... & feels nothing. was it luck or was it grace? gaze glancing groundward there is considered confusion clouding the shadow's face as an inward battle seems to rage, but once again it is the anger which wins & takes over as the king chases his clown.

a swirl, a sway, a sashay away & he once again escapes the wrath aimed at him. giggles don't bubble but tears instead & he cries to the maliciously marauding mean man "please sir, please sir, why do you attack?!" not when they could be a pack! "no a herd, a herd, we're horses after all," he corrects himself; how does he get so off track? the mind, it's shattered, in pieces, wherever could they be? "not here, not there, not anywhere with me!" at this he looks at the chaser derisively, brows furrowing (if such a thing could be). "i lost my marbles, can't you see? i need help finding them, prithee." from cheeky to condescending in a wink, now his eyes sharpen, his brain starts to think. the bad, black boy is a ship & he needs to sink. darkness begins to swell, a tsunami within; blank eyes no longer, now out looks a demon. a sinister smile splays psychotically along his lips, he battens his ears, ready for the storm to sink ships.