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Post by GRIFFIN on May 25, 2012 3:37:39 GMT -5
 Griffin paced uneasily, glancing occasionally at the small filly that watched him. Phoenix was a beauty, no doubt, with her light gray coat that faded into black by the time it reached her knees, her silvery mane with black tips, amber and gold eyes. But the trouble was in her mother, first time he ever tried being straight like his father had tried to force him into, and here he ended up, left with Phoenix, his fierce and defiant daughter. Almost as if she were bored with his pacing, Phoenix stood up, not even hesitating to sink her teeth into the skin of his leg, Phoenix knew how to get his attention. Griffin huffed quietly watching the filly walk away without a word, her thin, long legs taking her in the direction of Bosco Lake. Within the short three days he'd had her, Griffin had learned that the filly didn't take no for a answer, if she wanted something she got it, whether it was through him or by herself. She also didn't talk, three days and not a word from her, despite Obsidian's attempt to get her to speak. Eventually they'd both given up. Phoenix didn't talk, simple as that.
Griffin shook out his white and black mane, following his daughter without a word. He didn't know what to think about this, besides the fact that he was, without a doubt gay. The stallion almost snorted in humor at the thought, instead watching Phoenix as she quickened her gait, giving him a impatient look that translated firmly into a command. She got bored with places even faster than he did, three days was too much for one place, especially somewhere like Bosco Evergreens. But he doubted that the lake would last more than a day. Griffin stretched out his legs, easily catching up with Phoenix, his firm grip on her mane slowing the filly down to a walk. The fact that she didn't speak even then, as she glowered at him defiantly, was almost worrying. "Relax Phoenix, I just don't want you to tire yourself" Griffin glared as her only response was too stamp on him hock. Aggressive, bold, defiant, vicious, Phoenix reflected a lot that his father had tried to instill in him. He only hoped that he could mellow her out.
Griffin watched as the filly trotted towards the lake, settling down on the shore as he watched her. His mismatched, red and amber, tracked her as Phoenix slipped into the water, staying in only up to her knees. For the longest time, he couldn't imagine himself having anything to do with being a parent, but now, he couldn't even turn away without worrying about her. He kind of guessed that it was just what it felt like to be a father.
Word Count; 467
Status; Complete
Muse; Great
Listening To; Decode- Paramore
Tags; Potential flirting/romance relationship or compassionate friend
Notes; ...
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Post by SCYLLA on May 25, 2012 6:50:23 GMT -5
It was hot.
The mare's ears twitched idly as she moved, head down, browsing the grasses. A light breeze - just enough to take the edge off the sun's unrelenting rays - caressed her fine dark coat and teased its way through the strands of her mane and tail.
It was on days like these that the world seemed almost too beautiful, when she felt almost at peace.
Then the mare caught a glance of her reflection in the shallows to her left, and the illusion was shattered.
Slender like her Quietus dam, with a straight, noble profile, sloping shoulders and neat, rounded hindquarters. A slight wave to her ebony mane and tail, light feathering on her fetlocks. Scylla would have been considered attractive...
If it were not for those wild, vampiric burgundy eyes, the battlescars. If it were not for the gory red splotches, red as blood, that dotted her muzzle, and the three horns curving from her head. Two atop her brow, a shorter, wickedly hooked one on her nasal bone.
The mare jerked her gaze away from the hostile Malum in the water, gazing back. Even as a nine year old, Scylla disliked her reflection.
Then, her ears stiffined. Her nostrils flared. Scylla lifted her head sharply and stared at the approaching equines. Their scents...
Malums. Which, as fate would have it, did not make her any less wary, due to... previous experiences. Malums stallions tended to be arrogant, violent and inexorable as death. Malums mares were not much kinder; and, of course, it would never help that Scylla did not only think like a hybrid (all sharp, malignant will twisting with careful conscience ) but looked like one, too.
Her frame was simple and unadorned, bar subtle black swirls around her knees; a modest physique that would not be out of place in a Quietus herd.
Her head, however, was undoubtedly Malum. Just like her powers.
Scylla watched the direction from which she knew the strangers were approaching - she had a small advantage in that they were upwind - as she picked up a trot, circling widely to put half the lake in between herself and the two other equines.
This way, she'd at least get a good look at them; and they at her. Catching another equine by surprise was a dangerous thing these days.
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Post by GRIFFIN on May 25, 2012 12:08:02 GMT -5
Griffin kept a weary eye on his daughter as the filly trotted through the water, her blatant, arrogant stride more like that of a cocky stallion than a newborn filly. Phoenix didn't like being taken for granted, something she made a point of clearly and often. The Malums stallion trotted back and forth along the shores, his light, long strides hitting the sand at a easy tempo. At only 15'1, Griffin was the kind of stallion that most underestimated - until they took in the red eye and subtly dangerous air. - Griffin snorted as he cast another look on Phoenix, his stride freezing as he watched her, the subtle tension, the way her head was bent with her golden and amber eyes focused upwards. Griffin lifted his miss-matched eyes, the red and gold orbs taking on a wary look as Griffin watched the mare, she was a Malums by scent but a mix by look. Just like him. "Phoenix, come." The stallion almost sighed in relief as the filly obeyed, her head down in what most would take as submission, but he recognized as thought. She was so much like him.
Griffin tossed his white and black mane as he shifted his weight, lowering his head for a moment to nuzzle Phoenix's withers, ignoring her try at nipping him for his efforts. The stallion cocked a hoof as he took in the mare across the lake, her dark bay coat, black mane and tail, the vampiric eyes that he could see from here, but it was the horns that threw him. Griffin had been almost grateful to have not inherited his father's horns, he'd ended up with a relatively normal appearance in fact, if not for his white, black fading coat and red and amber eyes. After a moment Griffin readjusted his stance, the movement as close to inviting as anyone was likely to get from him, he didn't socialize, but he didn't turn people away either. He simply didn't care enough to. Phoenix snorted at his feet, baring her teeth absently before settling, her currently, nigh none existent muscles rippling underneath her light gray and black coat. She liked people even less than he did, because while he simply didn't care, Phoenix disliked them.
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