Fairy tale Dark

O how different this situation would have been had Tamlin been of less honorable intentions. For what was he, the shaggy and rugged rover, if not the incarnation of “stranger danger”? But as despicable as he was for leading a life of substance abuse he had no ulterior motives this time. And for the record he had not planned on stabbing Otem the last time they met either, it had been a spur of the moment thing. Not that that excused him from hurting a young filly. Otem was not impressed by the magic he had been born with. It hurt him a bit; it was such a big part of him – without it he wouldn’t even be able to feed his addiction. Had he been sober he might have taken the insult more with a blank expression and a snort, but in this state he was much more susceptible to feelings. He never touched on the deep, important stuff of course, but shallow emotions he allowed himself to feel to a certain extent. The insult was instantly forgotten however when she produced a flower out of nothing. It just grew out of the soil, a beautiful purple rose. “Wow…” he said, drawing out the word. He turned to her when she spoke again. Potions too? His magic seemed more and more measly compared to hers, but still he wanted to show her his little place of Helovian plants. It seemed she was willing to come with him even if he noted how she was prepared for flight. Her companion however did not seem thrilled by Tamlin’s proposition, and again, who could blame the wise bird? “Come this way.” Tamlin smiled and started walking in the direction he had come from. The gaunt stallion’s walk was somewhat jerky from lack of muscles and his hind legs made clicking sounds every time he lifted them. But he walked with a certain spring in his step anyways, feeling good and calm with the ghosts of his past chased away by his ritual. Now and again he saw Allie, the blue, floating flower, fluttering between the ferns of the vibrant forest. But he ignored her, took her for what she was - a hallucination. “Will you tell me about your home in Helovia, Your Grace?” he asked the girl. His mind, it seemed, had stuck on the notion that she was a princess and he could not seem to divert from addressing her like one.

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