The stallion defied all sense of limits and common sense, its dimensions monstrous. Its eyes burned red, completely bloodshot; but the fury of its gaze was cold, and it was frost, not steam, that billowed from its breath. Thick with muscle, it pawed the ground like a bull, casting off shooting stars in blinding flashes, doom doom doom.
Then it charged...
–“Tying the Knot,” from Songs of the Metamythos
