Wechuge

That everyone gets wrong.

The tracking had been almost endless, but it left little to be desired. The way rage coursed through dark skin tainted with white marks seemed to light up a night even if it was as bright as a flickering bulb on a 7-Eleven sign. Taking everything in stride, the cryptid based stallion continued his tracking until he finally had his prey in a stand still. Wechuge knew better than to pick a fight he was not yet ready to win, but that baser instinct inside of him wanted to go out there, to cause strife, to weaken anything and anyone that dared to rule over him.

“Rutger.” Came the deep bass of his voice, silencing anything that could have thought about making noise. His crystalline blue eyes were hard, shadowed by darkness. He was nowhere near the demon Rutger had been thinking of, but that was just fine for the moment. Instead, the blood marked bay stallion slowly continued forward until his height towered over Rutger. His tangled mess of mane hung low with mud and sticks standing from the ends. Here, in the face of the poised and ‘well groomed’ Rutger, Wechuge was nothing more than a voodoo doll that had been used one too many times.

The rage inside of him simmered hotter, turning from that slight bubbling mess into a rolling boil. It made his heart thunder in his ears and his throat constricted. He could so easily reach forward, clamp his teeth around the Boss’s throat and just bite down. Rutger would let him figure it out, if the way the boss stood still without an ounce of self preservation showing in his eyes said anything. It would be swift, easy… melodramatic. The bog would be saved from this prick, but at what cost to his own flesh?

Shaking out his large frame as the knee high grass of this section of the bog touched his knees, Wechuge reigned in some of his darkest thoughts. “That demon over there won't save you.” He whispered darkly, making sure his words held weight as he shifted his blue eyes over the sea. “If rumors are true… you'll be barking up the wrong tree.” Lucifer, from what Wechuge had heard, was a self serving bastard. They could be simple rumors or something worse, who honestly knew. Wechuge never had once gone out in search of answers as he really didn't care. However, one had to pay attention in some capacity to understand the world they lived in.

Maybe time would change the way Wechuge viewed the world, but for right now he honestly had no want to piece together something else with his life. For now, he would stay here in the Lagoon, strengthen himself, and watch as the world burned at his fingertips. He might get there, but there was also that one saying around the world that bit at his lungs and burned his throat.

’There is always someone better than you.’

Stallion ─ 18.0 hands ─ Bay (Blood) Tovero (Tobiano/Overo) ─ Cryptid of the Lagoon