While the honest and true are the worst of us.
(CONTENT WARNING! BLOOD, PSYCHOPATH TOUCHING WITH DEATH INVOLVED! READ WITH CAUTION)
”I wonder what it tastes like.
The muscles under ones skin.
The wretched blood of their veins.
I wonder what they look like.
The organs that work inside a body.
The very things that keep us alive.
I wanna see them… the internal cavity of those under my very hooves.”
Flicking one white peppered ear forward, a red roan mare watches the movement of others. Her green eyes take them all in, noticing the way muscles move under sleek fur and how injuries hinder the easy gait in some. Her head tilts, taking in the sight of a stallion with a limp before flicking her gaze to a mare that has missing patches of fur. It was all so wonderful, the way their bodies just worked even injured. She wondered what they felt with their injuries. Were they in pain? Did they have other emotions? She would not know for she could not feel them, something that came with a fault in her brain. She had been born alright and her mother said she loved her, but that was to be decided. This was much more her style however, watching others with a calculating and pale gaze holding no light.
Licking her lips, the red roan mare trembled with delight. Her green eyes were glued upon another, one of patchwork white and brown. The way she hobbled, as if she had been injured recently, made the mare's heart stammer for a moment. She felt something light in her, begging her to go forward. It took a moment to understand the emotion, but she wrote it off. The need to see what caused that injury had her shifting and following the other creature. Her muscled frame twitched with hunger and her mind worked until it all came into a calculated way. Her mind stabilized, her heart beating at a steady pace, and her hooves moving softly upon the green covered ground. She could hear the voice, the monster, the impulses. They wanted her to strike now, to take her down and search out the reason behind the injury, but she held them back. A steady voice in her head demanded action, but she whispered to it, telling it to lay down and remain at bay for just the moment.
Following her to the beach, the red roan just watched. Her body slunk forward as the other mare stumbled, her body falling with a sickening crack and a cry of pain. She heard it, watched it, and felt her infatuation with her wanting to grow. Creeping closer, the red roan just let out a breath before her hooves were merely a breaths distance away from the in pain patchwork mare. She looked her over, offering a tilt of her head as she mentally captured this very thing. A masterpiece, a work of art. This mare was a glorious specimen and as her head lowered, a sick gleam captured her eyes before she pushed against her, knocking the mare to her side before the sound of hooves whooshing through the air entered her own ears and a gurgling cry escaped into thin air.
Time passed and with her head lowered and her eyes searching, the red roan mare now littered with droplets of blood hummed. Her muscled form twitched, her mind cataloging everything as she licked her lips.
“I can't taste it.” She murmured, knowing she would not indulge that part of her. Instead, she worked on pushing the mare on the loose sand. It took a lot of effort and as the tide rose, she just giggled. Her head tilted in a way that would make others run in fear. She was working on something and as she poked at a protruding bone with her nose, the almost two year old named Canine just smirked. Her long tail lashed against her hocks before she stepped back and let the ocean take away her prize.
“The muscle and bone were interesting. I wonder what else I can learn from those around here.” Nodding her head, Canine just shrugged before her body turned and walked through the ocean, washing away the blood and gore before vanishing back into her home, greeting her mother with a fake sense of love and peace. Only though, Canine's mind did not work that way. She was learning, watching, and taking emotions from others to use at herself to fake being socially accepted. If they knew… well she would be where that pretty mare currently sank.
CANINE
mare | 16.2hhs | red roan | daughter of the lagoon
