.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
11-21-2013, 04:50 PM
"Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there."
Gabriel relaxed immediately at the response, relieved again to have come across friend rather than foe. He knew, at some point, it would come to defending himself, and he didn't look forward to it. To pass another day without the need for it was well indeed.
He, too, found it rare to stray across another stallion's path; with the obvious exception of the twins his company had always been women, for better and for ill. To hear a male voice respond to him, even talking about nothing more than the weather, was almost refreshing.
“Perhaps I will,” he said, and there was no sarcasm in it. The grey certainly seemed to take whatever gods Helovia had seriously, and so had Africa; Gabriel wasn't about to scoff at anybody's beliefs, so long as they didn't affect him. His own history with gods – as supposed parents, as destroyers, as fools with the impulses of petulant children – he'd never shared with anybody. It seemed unrealistic to think Helovia could be the place where his viewpoint changed, but stranger things happened. He'd certainly changed in other ways since he was a colt.
“Well met, Lace,” he replied, and inclined his head to the stallion. “I'm Gabriel.” With the giving of his name he took a few more steps forward, not quite following the grullo to the shore but coming close, and paused to pull at a mouthful of grass sweet with rain. A flash of white, just south of being distinct, rose from the opposite bank; it's sudden appearance made the red stallion raise his head with comical sharpness, coffee-dark eyes not leaving the foreign shape until it had once again vanished below the surface.
He cast an eye to Lace, who seemed not in the least alarmed, and forced himself again to relax – an action he was that was becoming increasingly common. He thought of the stallion in the Threshold, and his savannah-cat; he thought of Africa and her bird. The idea of a companion was still a strange concept to him, but it was no longer a foreign one.
Still, he'd never seen a dragon before.
“Is it with you?” he asked, already guessing at the answer, and then added “and what is it, if you don't mind my asking?” He smiled a self-deprecating little half-smile, comfortable enough in his role as the newcomer, the fool. The red stallion had found that owning up to your ignorance meant more quickly overcoming it.
There was a time when Gabriel felt and thought he knew the whole world, and knew, too, that it held nothing for him; what a pleasure it was, to find himself proven wrong so often.
@[Lace]
@[Torleik]
He, too, found it rare to stray across another stallion's path; with the obvious exception of the twins his company had always been women, for better and for ill. To hear a male voice respond to him, even talking about nothing more than the weather, was almost refreshing.
“Perhaps I will,” he said, and there was no sarcasm in it. The grey certainly seemed to take whatever gods Helovia had seriously, and so had Africa; Gabriel wasn't about to scoff at anybody's beliefs, so long as they didn't affect him. His own history with gods – as supposed parents, as destroyers, as fools with the impulses of petulant children – he'd never shared with anybody. It seemed unrealistic to think Helovia could be the place where his viewpoint changed, but stranger things happened. He'd certainly changed in other ways since he was a colt.
“Well met, Lace,” he replied, and inclined his head to the stallion. “I'm Gabriel.” With the giving of his name he took a few more steps forward, not quite following the grullo to the shore but coming close, and paused to pull at a mouthful of grass sweet with rain. A flash of white, just south of being distinct, rose from the opposite bank; it's sudden appearance made the red stallion raise his head with comical sharpness, coffee-dark eyes not leaving the foreign shape until it had once again vanished below the surface.
He cast an eye to Lace, who seemed not in the least alarmed, and forced himself again to relax – an action he was that was becoming increasingly common. He thought of the stallion in the Threshold, and his savannah-cat; he thought of Africa and her bird. The idea of a companion was still a strange concept to him, but it was no longer a foreign one.
Still, he'd never seen a dragon before.
“Is it with you?” he asked, already guessing at the answer, and then added “and what is it, if you don't mind my asking?” He smiled a self-deprecating little half-smile, comfortable enough in his role as the newcomer, the fool. The red stallion had found that owning up to your ignorance meant more quickly overcoming it.
There was a time when Gabriel felt and thought he knew the whole world, and knew, too, that it held nothing for him; what a pleasure it was, to find himself proven wrong so often.
@[Lace]
@[Torleik]
gabriel
