You'd Watch Me Burn Down In Flames //-toaster

[Sauda .]

t s a u m - -

Tsaum stood tall. His shoulders were pushed back under his tight skin, his muscles quivering in their casings. His spotted coat shined in the midday sun. Along his neck his black mane gently twisted as the late summer wind brushed past. Scents of his homeland brushed past his senses. Stepping forward, testing his footing and ensuring he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by stumbling or, worse, falling flat on his face. His mouth curved itself into his usual smile; a twist of his lips that could so easily be mistaken as a smirk. But this was not a day to be smirking. He had planned on meeting someone, someone he had known but not actually met. Voltair, a stallion whose younger sibling now ruled Tsaum’s true home, Covell. A smirk would throw his whole plan right through an alligator-infested swamp. That could not happen if he were ever to gain his rightful place.

Instead he smiled, not warmly, but sincerely enough for him not to look suspicious in any way. Say, if he were to help the brother gain title of King of the Caves, and then smite him when he was most weak. No. The smile he wore now told of someone who merely wanted to help a ‘rightful’ King to overturn his unsuited younger brother. Tsaum snorted, blowing warm misty air out of his lungs and into the warm day. He hadn’t ever actually asked Voltair to be at this place, at this time. In fact, he had never met the guy to offer a meeting in the first place. Truth be told, this was him looking. Searching for an ally who would help to make all his plans achievable. His dream scene blared before his eyes for a moment, a reminder for why he had first claimed Segren for himself. But Segren was not his home. It was a temporary place to piss on until he found his way back.

His tail swished, annoyed that he had to search for this stallion. It was obvious that just finding a guy on the first day of searching was not realistic, but the appaloosa King had found himself becoming more and more impatient in the past few weeks. Standing here wasn’t helping anything, either. He took off quickly, burning his energy in a consuming two-beat. The swing of his hips and placing of his hooves kept his head vibrating with his ego; how suave he looked, how handsome. His smile widened as he passed two conversing mares, both of whom must have looked back at him, jaws ajar. He was far from a boring colour. Seal bay, near leopard. Oh yes, he knew he was attractive. Grey and chestnut mares were a thing of his bachelor days. One day, he would covet the most beautiful of mares. And the prettiest he would make his Queen. The thoughts made him slow back down to a walk. Comforting himself by imagining his Covell and the imaginary mares. He forgot he was looking for Voltair.

[Toaster]

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was here. This kind of place didn’t seem to offer much to the brute. The immense expanses of grasslands was far from his ideal type of environment, considering he’d grown up in a vastly different territory. The caves from whence he’d came was a far cry from the plains he was now, briefly, residing in. The fact that he hadn’t seen his original territory in years didn’t take away from his memories of it, or desire for it. Sure, he’d put up with just about anything to get what he needed in the long run, but even someone like Voltair had his biases when it came to land. He couldn’t help but pin his ears back in repulsion as he eyed the things around him. Head slowly turned from left, and then to the right as he surveyed his surroundings. Nothing interesting caught his attention for the time being.

Assured that this wretched, boring landscape around him wasn’t about to spring any surprises his way, he lowered his muzzle to the rather murky liquid of the watering hole he had stumbled upon a few minutes before. The taste was almost as disgusting as he’d expected it to be. “Figures” he grunted as he jerked his head up and away from the stuff he was forced to drink. He had to remind himself that living here was only temporary, and that he’d be on his way again in a matter of days. Where was he going? Even Voltair couldn’t answer that. His life lately was mostly made up of wandering. But it was not in vain or a waste of time. He’d already found much of what he was looking for; allies and mares. Both were beneficial to him, especially the valuable alliances he had made and could make more of if things went his way. Perhaps he was power hungry and preferred not to deal with the stupidity of others, but Voltair wasn’t stupid. He knew he couldn’t just waltz into Covell and expect to take it on his own. His brother, the king, was powerful. No matter how much one detested Socrates, only a fool would deny it. Not only that, but he had his own allegiances to back him up. Voltair needed more than his younger sibling. Socrates would always have the home field advantage. If Voltair was to take his rightful place as king someday, he’d need more than his brother had.

As if to answer his prayers and greed, a stallion came galloping into the brute’s view. He watched in an almost bored fashion, even though his interest was suddenly peaked. With the flick of his tail over his newly scarred haunches, he took a few steps up the slight embankment away from the water, putting himself in plain sight. He wanted to be seen. Perhaps it was not always wise for an invader to throw themselves out there for a all to see. This male that had come along could well be the king of these lands. A fight was always a possibility. Though Voltair had the hope that this would go the opposite way. With his head held high, he eyed the brute with narrowed eyes, watching him carefully with his muscular and tall black frame as still as a statue.

NOTES: n/a
WORD COUNT: eh
MUSE: Good, but the writers block kills.
VOICE: mark strong as lord blackwood