[PRP] Out of My System [Half Truth, Vim]

[Scaramouche Fandango]

There was something deeply, deeply wrong with Half Truth.

She couldn't for the life of her pin down what it was; a feeling, a fluttering, a flustering. She'd heard of this sort of stirring before, but didn't expect it to happen to her. Her, of all kin! She found herself thinking of... things she didn't want to think about, and she hated that she couldn't put it any more eloquently than that. Exhaling sharply, she continued to vent her frustrations on the local wildlife. If she couldn't smother her feelings, she'd eat them instead. Angrily, she wrestled in the shallows with an enormous catfish, trying to focus on where to plant her hooves and what to do with her horns. If she focused on forcing it onto the bank, she could pick it up then and smash it, which was pretty much the extent of what she wanted to do right now.

"Haa-rgh!" she grunted, heaving the fish and minding its sharp-edged barbels. It was far too big to elegantly snatch out of the water; the fish weighed at least as much as a small caiman, and it was a fighter. Which was good- she needed to struggle with something tangible right now, something she could actually see and deal with in a way that made some sense. The fish splashed mightily in the shallows; she'd worked it to where it was too shallow for it to get any momentum and swim away. It floundered furiously as she tried to get a grip on its tail so that she could end it swiftly; now that she'd fought it and bested it, there was no sense in prolonging its suffering. She neither needed or wanted to commiserate with her food.

A crash, a crack, and a swift, sharp end; cervical dislocation via a strong dash against the nearest tree, and the fish's pain was over. Huffing and puffing, she shook the mud from her coat as she stretched to cool down. Whew. That was a workout.  

[theCorniest]

Unbeknownst to the first, a second doe was also present. She'd heard the struggle in the stream, and, suspecting the worst, came running. Something quite apart than a struggling swimmer or inter-kin violence met her seeking eye, however - and what a sight. A stout doe straddling the stream, savaging a catfish for her supper. No small fry, either - something scarce smaller than a foal, which made the finishing blow all the more impressive. As the action died down, the doe's descant laughter danced in the air.

"My word," she said, smiling, "Are your meals often such massacres, madam?"  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Rolling out her shoulders and back, Half Truth's ears shot up as a melodious voice came forth- a lovely lady's voice. For a split second she feared her frustrations coming back, but the grey stranger with the delightfully curly mane was not the thorn in her side. "Only when they're worthy of such attention; but I find myself distracted." She flashed a grin at the interloper, hoping to come across more as "charming, if rough-hewn" than "dangerous predator." This might be just what she needed. "But tell me- what was it that brought you running? If it was hunger, this monster can defeat that one; come, sit a spell. It's not like the fish can bite," she said with a wink as she circled her prey, inspecting it from all angles, surreptitiously dipping her fetlocks in the water to clean up just a bit more. She eyed the stranger up and down, taking in her pale coat and wondering if she was as bubbly as she looked. "I don't bite, either, as the old chestnut goes. Much- to finish the cliché. Unless you're a fish," she said, giggling a bit and trying to calm her nerves from both the work-up and the work-out.