Cryptids and tales feast upon your sins. Posted on November 9, 2025 at 11:12:18 PM by Wechuge
“Out with it.”
Three words coated the dark air, lacing it with a toxic cadence. As the pitch black sky holds no stars or moving birds, it fueled the sinister feeling that coated the land. It was as if a nightmare was starting, one where no one would even see it coming until it was too late.
Shaking out a thick neck with eyes of a piercing blue narrowing, a crimson marked bay stallion pinned his ears and glared at the figure in which spoke to him. Muscles flexed under thick skin and shaggy hair fluttered against the blood bay male's body. His duo toned mane softly rustled with the breeze, but that was the only calm thing about this brute as he just glared at the one who dared speak to him.
“Go kick rocks, mate.” The voice that left the blood hued stallion was a deep tenor. It rumbled from his throat and through his mouth with a detectable undertone of malice. The haunting voice of his was rich, deep, and almost a sin to just hear. Not one to speak much, this stallion named Wechuge heard the tad of raspy under note to it as well. His voice bothered him, making his ears tuck just a tad tighter to his poll. He had been complemented way to many times back where he once belonged over it. The herd had loved it when he was kind with it, but the moment his darker nature surfaced, they all hated it.
‘
Turning away from the one who had chased him, Wechuge licked his black rimmed lips. His face was dual toned, red and white. It was like someone had taken a white bucket of paint and just threw it all over his body. He was bright, but also tainted with a red that was vibrant in the sunlight. Being a bay tovero, he took the bay a bit farther and was what he had heard humans call a “blood” bay. It was a striking color, let alone the white that made it seem as if puzzle pieces were holding him together.
Walking away under a black sky, Wechuge moved farther across this new set of islands. He had heard his stalker return to the ocean, hopefully never to be seen again. The draft mae was thankful for that tid bit, even if he just wanted to hold the bastard under the sea until the bubbles stopped. “He would have been better as a corpse.” Came the brute's voice, whispering under his breath as he glared over his shoulder once. It would do him no good to just let the jerk leave, but at the same time it was too late in the day to have blood upon his hooves and a death in his memory.
As Wechige moved over a larger island in this string of almost six, his blue eyes narrowed as the sun began to rise in the distance. He could hear birds chirping across the trees and other animals bleating and woofing. One particular crying yip had the eighteen hand stallion turning his head, watching coyotes run through the trees and watching him. He would rather not become their dinner, but time would tell what would come as he found himself now standing in a large meadow. “Might as well.” Sighing, the irritated man lowered his head, eating grasses that were a bit crisp thanks to the summer months.