Room 418, Sunday Morning

[wrongkindofsith]

Oddly enough, Cara had not been best pleased to wake up with hooves. Twisting around to look at herself it also seemed like she had a tattoo of crossed agiels on either side of her flanks, but it was hard to tell given they were half-covered by her wings.

...covered by her wings.

Okay, now that was just ridiculous. If she found out who was responsible for this, they were going to get such a kicking.

At least the door-handle wasn't too hard to work with her mouth.

[ooc: Open door, cranky pony.]

Comments

[wrongkindofsith]

Yeah, Cara was totally running after him. And she was pretty quick even when she didn't four legs.

Run, Nathan, run!

[tripledmyself.livejournal.com]

Nathan threw himself into his room, kicked the door shut and locked it. Yep, not letting her in. And if she kicked that in, he would totally call the fucking cops and get laughed at for saying a pony was threatening him.

Whatever, he'd still call them and insist they get their asses out to him.

[wrongkindofsith]

So it turned out that galloping full bore down the hall with your wings out was a really good way of discovering that those wings were actually functional. Which meant that Cara was momentarily distracted from the pressing task of destroying Nathan's door as she tried to avoid flying straight into a wall.

But when Nathan least expected it, she'd be waiting. He'd never even see her coming.