Sticks And Stones

the Rift

[OPEN] Sticks And Stones

Bucephalus the Morningstar Posts: 292

Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.1 :: 6 || Tallsun HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE

Azeeza :: Orange-breasted Falcon :: None Tribs

#15

11-11-2014, 02:11 PM

[Image: 9e6b3ad4-a8c4-4003-bd66-cb75589c58e6_zps...1415597174]

At her words his ears went straight back, pinned flat against his head, and his gold eyes seemed to burn. There was a war inside the stallion. Part screamed at him to lay into the mare with hooves and words. How dare she ask that? What did she know? None of them knew! NONE! His legs trembled, and for a heartbeat of a second it looked as if the stallion would loose it and hurl himself at her.

But he ducked his head and stepped back, wings half-open and feathers fluffed in agitation. He snorted, then shook himself, his gaze focusing on Morrigan like burning gold. "What do you know?" His tone was icy, and he turned to face her, head low. He was in control once more, the wildness inside tamed for now. But it was obvious the mare was on thin ice, treading a line between what would set the black off. "You do not know. You have not danced with the sand, nor sang with a hurricane. This world, this Helovia," his wings snapped open in a jagged gesture to the land around them, "is soundless! No one sings! No one dances! They speak but do not speak with body! Just voice!" To the constantly moving stallion, it was something that was unnatural.

For to him, one spoke with the body and voice. But the folk here barely spoke with their bodies past the instinctual signs. All at once, Bucephalus seemed to deflate, the anger and passion gone from his eyes, replaced with mourning. His wings hung limp at his side, gold-edged feathers trailing in the sands and his head low. "I almost fell to my death crossing into this land from Sehrau... the wind sang to me her usual tune, the mountains humming their thoughts... then it was like i went deaf. Silence. The wind, she would not speak to me nor would the stone." How could he make her see? See that this silence... it was driving him mad. He had to rein himself in so much; to break out in dance or speak too much with the body would warrant stares from others. To speak in a singing tone would be so...strange.

Silent now, he watched Morrigan. Why had he said all this? Maybe because it needed to be said. Because she too was an outsider, new to this land. Or maybe because no one else had even bothered to ask why he hated but loved his old home.

Word Count:416 Tags:@[Morrigan II]

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Any force is allowed against short of death.

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