ALWAYS LOOK A GIFT HORSE …
The stallion was magnificent. Perhaps their intent was genuine.
“A gift, from our king to yours. We desire only peace.”
The emissary bowed and joined his dark companion. They shared a hooded glance.
“Sire”, Lord Griffin cautioned his liege. “Do not underestimate the Forest Elves.” He angled a shield of polished steel.
The steed’s reflection rippled, its flesh dissolving as the glamour fled.
A driftwood skeleton emerged, a parody of life, its edges razored sharp in all directions. Cinder eyes smoldered. This was not a King’s mount.
“Tell me”. His demand was no less cutting. “What piece DID you desire?”
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