B-B-B-Breakin' Rocks in the--Hot Sun! I Fought the Law, and the Law Won! Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh... · 7:07am May 10th, 2013
Changelings buzzed frantically around the courthouse—over, around, through—in a sporadic, black orbit. They perched on trellis and bulwark and ledge, flitting about in eager, swelling anticipation.
Double doors opened, and six bright mares were whisked inside on gossamer wings, right past Daemon Moonfire’s position: a small, traditional cloak-house at the edge of the courtyard, flush with the southern cliffs leading to the market district. It was dark, cramped, and smelled of old ponies and moth-balls.
The Daemon felt right at home.
“Stallions in position, Sir,” whispered Sun Flare from the rafters above. The injured Sergeant had flapped up there painfully in order to keep an eye on their soldiers in the city below. “Should I give the order?”
“Allow me.”
The midnight thestral slinked from the smeared front window toward the open crevasse that was the rear air-vent—meant to reduce the musty smell, perhaps—and tilted his horn out over the cliffs.
Concentrating, Moonfire tugged at the life surrounding them. Hearts beating in the hay—a family of mice—ragged breathing from the rafters—Sgt. Flare—and hundreds of chittering, eager insects gathering outside flowed together into his sickle-shaped horn, bursting forth in a shower of purple sparks over the precipice and the buildings below: the signal to begin.
Down below, one hundred sixteen Solar and Lunar Guards thought of their mothers.
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Daw, I wuv you too~
I hope your not dead yet pal.