The-Crimson-Court

Ears dropping as he hid under the warm silken leather of his sister's sheltering wing, Volodya a colt of only a few years shuddered at the stomping hoofbeats and raging voice of thier father filtering out from behind the locked door of his solar.   "He sounds really mad," he whispered, small membranous wings tucked tightly against his sides, hiding his nose between his fluffy hocked hooves. Nightengale, his older sister of 2 years and already too wise about thier world of shadows and their father's large role in facilitating the the oils for the gears of that behemoth world snorted, "He's just insulted that a mere night guard brought his ba