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01-05-2015, 11:12 PM
 “Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”
― Leonardo da Vinci Okay, so ONCE he impregnates a mare. Somehow Gaucho caught wind of Arvakl's little tidbit and now Bucephalus doubted he'd ever let it go. He watched Aakesh try to rise in silence, amused and irritated by the dun's statement. He opened his mouth to speak, to correct Gaucho's assumption, but Alija beats him to the punch. "He is yours Bucephalus..." The Morningstar freezes, goes rigid as stone. Then he prayed. Prayed prayed that he did not just hear what he thought he did. Slowly, oh so slowly, he turned his head and looked down at Alija, at Aakesh, with eyes wide enough to show the whites. His throat works, as if he would speak, but his dark lips don't part, instead staring down at the pair in dumbfounded shock. With Arvakl, he could doubt the unborn child's heritage, there was no proof that the babe would be his(and considering how...'welcoming' she had been, he doubted he was her first). But here... here there was proof. The ebony coat, the wings, the birdcatcher spots. All of it pointed to one as the father. Him. He couldn't compute. Couldn't understand this. And then it hits him like a mountain, and his legs begin to tremble. The shiver, so fine as to barely be noticeable, travels up his legs and to his entire body. Father. He was a child's father. Lips finally part, but nothing comes out yet. His gaze focuses on Aakesh, on his son. Slowly, as if the child was a snake, he lowers his head, nostrils trembling as he breathed in the babe's scent. It solidifies his fear and erases his doubts. This child is his. His responsibility and his son. He pulled back, ears flattened and a look on his face that could only be described as 'lost'. Because that's what he was. Lost. Confused. Terrified. He had no clue how to be a father, how to help raise a child, how to guide him. It's too much. If it was not for the fact that Gaucho was there, he would have fled, fled to think, to breathe, to clear his head and come to terms with the reality that stared at him with steel blue eyes. "Bucephalus speaks" "Altan speaks" |
Image by Aud
Coding by Tamme
Pixel by Aud
