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Torleik
The beard of glory... Rebuffing her physical kindness prior was exactly the reason Torleik chose to touch her now, wanting to make up for his rudeness before. He could still feel her kiss to his cheek, still remember how surprised he was, how good it felt. Torleik did not assume he could make her feel the same, but he hoped to give her a positive sensation, nonetheless. Would that he could read the thoughts behind that guarded dual-colored gaze. The stallion hadn't the slightest inkling of the internal struggle she felt and its magnitude for Ophelia, but he was patient with any silence, no longer wishing to be elsewhere. He liked this mare, he decided, and whether or not his decision returned him pain, he had made it. Unless she wounded him terribly or betrayed him, Torleik would consider her, at the very least, a friend worth helping, protecting, or standing by. Whichever she had need of from him at the time. The rabicano offered to help if she wanted it and listened as Ophelia claimed she was searching for a short, stout filly, and he considered those he'd run across in his time. None matched the description, especially not with a jagged horn. He was about to ask why she sought this young girl, but the question was rendered unnecessary when Ophelia spoke words the stallion was not currently equipped to properly handle. "My daughter." His throat went dry and he immediately averted his gaze, hard, nearly glaring at a stone pillar nearby. "Who is her father? Could she not be with him? Perhaps I have met him," the Bloodskald inquired, voice quieter, more hollow than before. Once again, he found himself fooled by his optimistic, hopeful nature. His gut told him she had to have a family, beautiful and kind as she was, and here was his evidence. His jaw clenched, feeling a pressure behind his eyeballs and in his temples. Just couldn't catch a break, could he? Was it too much to ask that he find someone whom he could...hope for, hope towards without immediately having his hope spat upon and trampled? "I have never come across a filly looking of that description, but if I do, I will be certain to let her know. Where should I send her?" was his forced inquiry, gaze still firmly locked anywhere but Ophelia's face. Torleik did not wish to offend her by letting his own emotions come across as judgement against her. He was not angry with her. Far from it. He was simply angry, angry at the hand he'd been dealt as of late, angry and lonely and tired. There wasn't more much the dual-horned demon felt he could take. @[Ophelia] "talk talk talk" |
![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Pixel by: Tamme :D
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