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12-08-2015, 10:46 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-08-2015, 10:49 PM by Thranduil.
Edit Reason: MY LIFE FOR TAGS
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When he raised his head again, it was dulled and cowed. That mare could bite, kick, stomp, and screech and it wouldn’t do her much good now. He had burned out faster than a firecracker, and now there was nothing but the hallow shell. And worse, nothing left to stop the madness from engulfing him into thinking that somehow, he still had enough sway in this to get, no, demand what he wanted. Sultana. The calm words of Gaucho are almost missed in the chaotic atmosphere. She was there Sultana. The golden’s level head lets one ear fall back as if unsure. This fiery, hot tempered, ill mannered woman was the one Gaucho had chosen to lead his precious family. The gold snorted, that was worse than choosing him for Lord. Of course considering the situation he was a bit biased in that opinion.
In fact, Gaucho seemed to enjoying this little spat. He even teased the woman. The golden does not look his way anymore. This Gaucho, this firebird without threat he did not know. And oddly enough did not trust. It was a shame those his mild manners didn’t rub off on the mare. She kept right on. With shallow breathes, and broken fight, he exactly in a position to keep up with her. Not on that level. So as she gives a haunty bark, and takes a step towards him, he doesn’t even move. Was she trying to insult him? Humiliate him with this? Surely she should know all cares of that had vanished with he decided to come out in public like this.
She begins to lecture him. Or something. Honestly the gold was doing good just to breathe right now. So her exactly message, other than her tone, sort of got lost in translation. He hadn’t expect to be so spent so quickly. It wasn’t in the plan. So now what. He needed that blade. He had to have that blade. It would fix everything. But he wasn’t going to get it like this. He hadn’t the strength to fight or lie. But there was…one…other way.
His consideration of it mulled, but when she leans in closer, he focuses. Unable to lean back for threat to his risky balance, the gold can only stand there, staring back. His mind floats off, and instincts take over. If someone was this close there was opportunity to be had. He inhales, shallow but slow, and gears click and lock in. Dare bring his sickness? He snorts, the only protest he could raise. He was like this because he didn’t have any damn defense. (Or so his mind said to him). Besides, he prayed as he thought of his shallow breath rolling over her, what a treat if she got it. It would cost him, and a weight presses in his chest again. Not now. He was growing desperate within, reaching for anything, but finding it all broken. There was no other choice. He loved it so, but it still was insulting to have to call upon it. To admit his natural skill was not enough.
She delivers her ultimatum. And well, he has to remind himself in the madness of the seriousness. The idea she could take anything else from him was…well a laugh. What was she going to do, take his health in a fight? Well someone beat you to it honey. Robbed the store before you. But this was a serious occasion, and he had only one chance to make this work. “Easy Sultana, I am in no state to argue, but I believe you are mistaken. I was not attacking.” Here goes nothing, the magic swelled upon his gilded lips. “I was saving your family by shoving them from harm. This sickness and wounds could have been there’s. My blade did not touch their hides.” The last line did not need the magic. It was truth already. In this his memory was as sharp as his blade, sharpened by the desire to retrieve it. It had only cut into a mare of the Falls, a dark one. Really he should be embarrassed. He was a lousy shot that day.
Now he holds his breath, still distrusting this magic gifted him. Well he was sort of holding his breath anyway. In case you forgot, the golden couldn’t actually breathe at the moment.
OOC :: Thran is using his rank magic, guilded tongue, in the gold text.
"speech"
Posting Poetics
@Gaucho @Megaera
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