[via bleedinghearth] What's this weird fucken horse. She looks like if a unicorn, a tarantula hawk, and a rotting piece of wood had the most unholy threesome known to man.
"Oi. Drag Race called. They want their apparel back."
Being caught off guard by a dragon would usually be a cause of alarm.
Usually.
But a foul mood had possessed the queen, and rather than pondering how to bolt from under his shadow, she could only think on how insulting his tone was, even if the words were meaningless noise.
Jaw clenched, she growled -- deep, and venomous. On the shrieking hum of her wings, she made her way up to his eye-level. Reasonably distanced from his snout, she glowered at him with enough hatred to strike down dragons half his size.
"- - Then tell your 'drag race' that they can have it as a reminder of my complete and total subjugation of them and ALL other creatures across the land!"
Before he could snap back, his vision was obscured by a thick web of blue-green, mucous silk. Sticky globules clung to his eyelids as the shrill buzzing of wings quickly grew fainter and fainter.
Her foul mood spat back out into the world, reason had returned to her.













