This isn't the notebook.

the Rift

[PRIVATE] This isn't the notebook.

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354

Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT

Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod

#20

08-05-2014, 02:37 PM

Torleik
The beard of glory...

Torleik's ears perked up when he heard that this pale princess' father had been a fearsome warlord. Really? That meant that Ophelia had impressive heritage and a warrior's blood in her veins. In the rabicano's eyes, this made her even more desirable - not that it would have taken much to make him want her more. She was damaged, hurting, and in need of a friend; he was weak to that. So impossibly, irresistibly weak to that.

"Your father, tell me about him?" the male inquired curiously, hoping to know more about the woman near him by learning of her lineage. They spoke of the Basin, of those who ruled it, of Deimos and their mutual dislike for the creeping death. "Loyal in the sense that I will do what I think best for the Basin, which he happens to lead." The black beast's ears pinned back against his skull when Ophelia spun a yarn of near-murder perpetrated by the very same Reaper, a certain type of violently rankled ire snarling in his gut. Who would want to harm this woman? Why? Merely for trespassing as a child?

"He would have killed a child for an unwitting mistake?" he growled. "A child, who has no concept of borders or herdlands or trespassing?" The disgust and loathing in the Bloodskald's voice was like the scent of something rotten: pungent and forceful. Lightly, he touched his muzzle to her shoulder, as if to reassure himself she was still in front of him, then set his still-blazing eyes to hers again. "You have a sister?" Whoever she is, I am grateful to all the gods for her.

The history of Ophelia's statement, saying that the Basin herd used to rule the World's Edge long ago, vaguely bounced around in his head as information he'd acquired from Illynx during their journey together to find Psyche. It was of lesser consequence to him now than information about Ophelia or the importance of the situations of the moment. A silence drifted between them and Torleik's mind turned in on itself - not a good habit.

Snapped out of his personal spiral by her voice, the dual-horned stallion looked up when the white and crimson mare inquired of him something he'd expected least of all: if he wanted to come with her. Eyes narrow and wary, brows furrowed, he regarded her momentarily but found no apparent ulterior motives in her face or her body language. Perhaps this was making up for rejecting his offer of help last time, or perhaps she simply did not want to be alone.

He would not disappoint her.

"If you would have me, I would follow you," the Bloodskald replied, clicking lightly at Irelyn to indicate she needed to follow as he stepped out into the rain once more. "Lead on," Torleik murmured, remaining close to Ophelia's side.

@[Ophelia]

"talk talk talk"

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA