Tell Me Lies...

...tell me sweet little lies.


"Why do you have so many horns?"

It was a question boldly asked, cards tossed atop a table with great negligence.

"Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

She was a thief. Why wouldn't she want to know?

Bylah was like nothing she knew. Neither man nor beast, beast nor man. Something that was beautiful and terrible - something that was beautiful because it was terrible.

Something that was terrible because it was beautiful.

She wanted to know about that something, very badly.

"Yes."

Breath rolled from him, carrying sparks and smoke, the last fires of something dying in the dark.

"I have a horn for every lie I've ever told. Each tine represents my legacy, my vast endeavor. Perhaps there are hundreds. Thousands. I have lost count."

She considered what he said - and then the wide sprawled glory atop his head.

...and suddenly wondered if he was lying to her.