Honor Is One Thing, Vengeance Is Another (Open!)

[Vahagn]

Vahagn gave a great sigh and a grunt as he climbed the rocky hill that blocked his way, occasionally slipping on the delicate stone. And then he was in the Red Pine Forest.


The ebony stallion moved through the tall trees like a living shadow, muscles shifting beneath his charcoal pelt, recently drenched by the previous night's storm. During that little fiasco, he had fallen down a sharp drop, and had cut his flank. His wound smiled from the parted flesh, crimson blood spilling over the soft, starless coat that served as a second skin to the male. It didn't hurt too bad, but it was throbbing, stinging, the adrenaline having worn off long ago. The rain had failed to wash away the first coat of blood, now old and sticking to his pelt like dry paint.

Vahagn huffed, swishing his long tail, before he paused to sniff at a few flowers. Quickly, he quietly snatched up a bit of grass before he continued to walk, chewing as he went.

He looked laid back, but beneath the almost lazy posture and relaxed expression, a plot was forming in his mind. He planned to do something dark, something dangerous, something downright EVIL, in the name of vengeance. Maybe, when his was all over, he should rename himself to Vengeance. Make him more intimidating, and it would remind him that he had avenged his sister.


The murder of his sibling had stuck with him all these years. He was three now, almost four, and this had taken place when he was barely reaching maturity. The rage still bubbled within, as fresh as it always was. His thirst for his father's blood was stronger then his thirst for water.


Vahagn intended to quench it.



The smokewash'd stallion pinned his lobes back as his wound reminded him of his current state. He was in no condition to fight, and with no herd to support him, he'd have to deal with this alone.


Vahagn sighed. He needed a mare.