The silent hush of the night rustled with every leaf against the trees, with every bush shaking in the last hours of the light. The day was only slightly hot, though it was a dry heat. A brown mass quietly moved from shadow to shadow, until it halted to look down into the depths of the lake. A frown followed as light green eyes traced the out jaw, the a red color staining the pure white muzzle. A stallion stood, his chin dripping in blood, his flank showing signs of a battle, but no pain was able to be traced upon his gentleman looking face. A leaf fell upon his reflection, making his eyes shoot to where it came from checking for another to be there, yet nothing.
Oliver slowly walked into the pool of water, the red beginning to fade away from his brown, blue, and green coat. His eyes never seemed to be happy to rest in one area, perhaps it was the adrenaline rush he gained after each and every kill. A pain came to his mind, his wounds finally soaking into the water. Bringing up his left foot, he began to rub the blood from his muzzle. A usual curly headed stallion, his hair laid straight within the water, his tail floating behind him. Once satisfied, he left the lake and the shadows to walk amongst the plains.
Oliver remained an odd stallion, blessed with the looks of a prince charming, his mind was cold, twisted, corrupted, and more than slightly demented. His lust to inflict pain and play games on others was growing worse and worse each day, but he was unemotional and this twisted dream of power was nothing out of the ordinary. His heart had never felt a thing, no happiness was felt unless another was in danger, no sadness had ever been felt, his heart was the perfection of ice. Cold and barely beating, or so it seemed. It was as if at birth a demon forced it's way into his basket and planned to live through him. Even as a foal, he was nothing like the others, but this came from his Grandmothers side of the family.
It was only a matter of time until Oliver was to play another game with another poor soul...
Oliver slowly walked into the pool of water, the red beginning to fade away from his brown, blue, and green coat. His eyes never seemed to be happy to rest in one area, perhaps it was the adrenaline rush he gained after each and every kill. A pain came to his mind, his wounds finally soaking into the water. Bringing up his left foot, he began to rub the blood from his muzzle. A usual curly headed stallion, his hair laid straight within the water, his tail floating behind him. Once satisfied, he left the lake and the shadows to walk amongst the plains.
Oliver remained an odd stallion, blessed with the looks of a prince charming, his mind was cold, twisted, corrupted, and more than slightly demented. His lust to inflict pain and play games on others was growing worse and worse each day, but he was unemotional and this twisted dream of power was nothing out of the ordinary. His heart had never felt a thing, no happiness was felt unless another was in danger, no sadness had ever been felt, his heart was the perfection of ice. Cold and barely beating, or so it seemed. It was as if at birth a demon forced it's way into his basket and planned to live through him. Even as a foal, he was nothing like the others, but this came from his Grandmothers side of the family.
It was only a matter of time until Oliver was to play another game with another poor soul...
