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YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES AND THE GLORY FADES At first there's no recognition, and the beast is hurt that he wasn't worth so much as a mention in the eyes of his mother. The mare seems to be getting more and more cranky and Tyradon snorts his distaste, deciding that this just isn't worth the hassle and about to turn to leave. Before he can, she repeats his second words back to him and he's so damned relieved to finally be getting some sort of a reaction from her. A growl grabs his attention and he glances down to see a bear, his eyes momentarily flashing with interest before he looks from the creature to his sister. Cynder oggles down at the furry animal and her claws twitch against her bonded's mane as she fights the desire to go and poke it. She never mentioned you, she says, and the bastard's slate gaze blazes for a second as rage passes through his bloodstream. Ooh, what a bitch. Ears flatten into his mane and a snort of disgust escapes his flared nostrils, one hoof pawing irritably across the stone ground. This filly doesn't seem to realise she's walking on eggshells - she's treating him with thinly-veiled contempt, and in the past that has been a hanging offence for all with her horned affliction. If it wasn't for the fact she is her mother's daughter, and the fact he can't murder any unicorns for his bloody quest, then Cynder would be feasting on her bones even as they speak. Do you realise how lucky you are, girl, to meet me on a day like this? "I'm sure she had her reasons," he murmurs, words clipped and tones echoing with forced calm. She asks him where he's from, and he is in two minds whether to answer or to stand here glowering like a petulant child. "Isilme," he answers gruffly, glancing back to the mare even as Cynder settles herself more comfortably into the crook of his back. "I am her firstborn, with her first lover." Her trueblood, equine lover. "And you?" |
[ we are made of greed ]
[ the regime ]
