The mares…they drive us to vices, like a warm bed on a cold night, always alluring, but never giving us the satisfaction…But my thoughts were scattered by the crack-crack-crack of hooves upon my door, like checkers in a child’s game after a loss, driving into my skull like nails into a coffin.
I knew what it was, what it had to be…who it had to be….another challenge, lost in the night, come to find salvation in the arms of a wretch like me…well, it was my job, after all….
You have 45 minutes to draw and 15 to submit. Be cool, cats.