n the dead of night a shadow moved. Eyes of a burnt amber flickered as blood vessels showed steady in the whites of ones eyes. Teeth were bared as large hooves stomped over the open soil of the Peak, dragging themselves through under growth as teeth managed to latch onto a pale white and golden hide. Screams filled the night once again, but the Peak suddenly fell into a pain filled silence as a body of black moved away from the laying body upon the ground. The beast had not been kidding when he whispered that sentence to Bubbles, but for now he would relish this little piece of flesh and skin in his teeth.

Grinning a sick crunch echoing from his mouth, Lucifer gripped the bloodied piece of flesh in his teeth. He had not entirely meant to break her pretty skin again, but the stallion held no actual care on it. He had been stopped that first day with her under his hooves and now? He was fed up. Everyone was out here to make his life a living hell when he should be doing it to others. That was why as he moved, Lucifer walked over trails the mares had used so many times over, his stench and Bubble’s fragrance mingling as if he had stolen the child and pushed her down the slopes with him towards the Lagoon.

Weaving through the Peak and down to the flatlands, Lucifer ambled. There was no quickness to his stride as literally no one in that Peak had stopped him except for the chocolate stallion and two mares, one of them the mother of Bubbles. Everyone else had gone radio silent and if Lucifer had his way, they would grow less and less in numbers. His head turned with those thoughts, sending a glaring look up the mountain and sending a silent little prayer towards Marceline. She was on his hit list and she would be under his hooves one day and he relished that thought.

Pushing through the tall grasses until he hits the Lagoon, Lucifer lets his body glide. His thick legs move over the ground before he slinks away into the Lagoon depths in search of his brothers. He was running from the Peak, but they had held him long enough. He was tired of watching them all be wraiths that never spoke and showed their faces. As he walked though, the black beast winced a few times as some of the more vicious wounds upon his body howled in pain. Finley had done a number on him, but the black beast knew he had left his own lasting goodbye letter.

Shaking his head, the draft stallion finally stopped in his home, his lips opening wide as he called out for his brothers. Either they would help him escape or he would return to the Peak. If he had to return to that mountain… the Lagoon could count its days as his sites would be set upon the figurehead of this place. Lucifer only had so much patience and it was starting to run out. If Garmr did not aid him… all faith in the draft boss would be lose.

The wolf was no longer wearing sheep's clothing.

Y

lucifer

stallion ∙ 18.0 hands ∙ demon of the lagoon

You're playing my game now.