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04-08-2014, 04:52 PM
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TORLEIK
Long is the winter of a man's soul Was his cousin smirking at him? What sort of mad thoughts were skittering through the labyrinthine maze of Ulrik’s mind right now, Torleik wondered. It was possible the Engineer held it against his related duocorn, this battle, but the blue-eyed demon didn’t think so. Ulrik didn’t seem the type to hold a grudge of that sort. What Torleik had done hadn’t offended the Engineer’s sensibilities, or his deeply held convictions. Offended him, maybe, that his decision to stand with Deimos was questioned – but that was every sentient being’s right: to question that of which he or she did not approve. No matter the pictures, thoughts or emotions running through his cousin at the moment, Torleik was glad to have family again. To have someone to call his in a sense; someone to whom he was close, if only by blood. His pleasure manifested in a rough hug that hurt them both, and just as he was about to pull away, the brawnier stallion was shocked into immobility by Ulrik’s response. The pressure of a muzzle into his flesh was not at all what Torleik expected to feel; he had anticipated a stiffened, statue-esque response. Perhaps there was more to this male than he realized. Pressure in his chest alerted Torleik to the sense that he was feeling something positive but overwhelming, something he could not name or put to words – and this feeling was amplified tenfold when his cousin said he was glad they were related. Ulrik approved. The mad genius, the picky Engineer approved. “As I am glad you are mine,” he murmured, following the leonine-tailed stallion into the water, hissing quietly at the pained firing of his nerves. The raw, open flesh was not prepared for temperatures such as this, nor were the already exposed and angered nerve endings in his bleeding wounds. Still, the heat soothed his aching muscles, and Torleik settled into a comfortable position, watching the steam rise from the top of the water in sensuous tendrils. Absently he wondered if Ulrik remembered much of his relations in Torleik’s home, and whether he missed them. His mother had always been kind to Ulrik. “I wish you could have seen my family one last time. They would have been proud of what you have become,” he said quietly. His people valued brute strength, yes, but there was always room for the clever thinkers, the problem solvers, the inventors. They were the lifeblood of a thriving community, what kept a herd from stagnating and dying out. "talk talk talk" 'Mental talking' Thoughts |
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No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Pixel by: Tamme :D
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