She answered back and with every word the posture of the stallion tautened, ears growing rigid atop the poll while the plumed tail froze in the midst of an outraged snap. She told him not to answer her rhetorics but how, how did she expect him to remain silent when the words were so insanely unfair? Withdrawing from her attempted touch the gray rogue moved to block her path, every movement expressing immense self restraint as he turned to face her; his eyes were harder now, and a tough of frost had sneaked into the previously so friendly vocals.
"No, child, you will stay. And you will listen as I answer your questions because I cannot allow you to leave thinking that you have made some kind of point." He gazed at her sternly and seemed to grow where he stood, an aura of authority and power emanating from the arch of the silver neck, the squared legs and the strong, unyielding eyes. "First of all I call you beautiful because you are, and I find no purpose in denying that. It is plain for every creature with eyes to see, and if you deny it then it will be nothing but false modesty or a low self-esteem - whichever you prefer. If you cannot take a compliment for what it is then I suggest you take up on your own advice and fix your own problems, whatever they may be."
"You would also do good in learning that pretty words are just that; words. Any idea you might have gotten from my compliments are entirely on you, because I have not given you any reason what so ever to think my feelings regarding you might be more than polite tolerance - a feeling that, I assure, is stretching thin. do not be so presumptuous, girl, because as you so eloquently put it; my heart is elsewhere. "
He had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the storm, and found that it wasn't just the roar of wind and rain that agitated his tone. Her words had stung, perhaps more because of his own inability to do just as she suggested. But really, how was he supposed to make the mare he loved stay by his side and be faithful to him if she didn't wish to do that? How did she suggest he let go of emotions that were causing him pain when everything around reminded him of her, when the thoughts of another mare made guilt and self-loathing rise like bile in the throat? It was true that Lace had a habit of running from problems but wasn't he in the process of making amends for that? He had returned to the Edge despite a deep desire to just avoid them, he had apologized for being weak and powerless and he left his first true home since foalhood because the herd would be better off without him - they had stability now, they had good, strong leaders that had the best interest of the family at heart. Even now he was making amends by aiding another herd, by looking out for the children of friends who had left him behind - because he was sorry for leaving them behind in turn.
"Secondly, how dare you presume you know anything about me or my problems! You, who are little more than a child, stand there telling me that I am not facing the challenges that are thrown at me? You have NO IDEA what you are talking about girl and I would recommend that you stop lecturing others with neither basis nor position to do so. One day it will land you in a situation so sticky that getting out of it might be night impossible - be grateful that I don't have a habit of injuring others just by speaking out of turn. Believe me, I am an exception!"
It was hurtful and unfair and while he knew there was no way for Dröm to know any of this he still found if outrageous that she could throw such words in his face when he hadn't even complained. Had he been anything but polite and kind to her? It was her own damn fault if she chose to interpret word-play and common courtesy for anything more.
Suddenly fuming the stallion stood staring down at the girl, emotion raging through him not unlike the storm outside. Rain cascaded against the glass roof and gushed in rivulets down the panes, creating a veritable waterfall that cut off access to their sheltered space from the outside world. Not only the water made it hard to get out; the trees seemed to have drawn closer too. A mass of branches and roots were churning and coiling in response to the silent anger of the Silverthorn, trees all but uprooting themselves as magic leaked from his person and fed into the wood. Lace noticed but did nothing to stop it; he didn't want to, had no desire to see this mare leave the rotunda before he'd had his say; she would remain there until he chose to let her go - perhaps after a sound apology, or whenever the hurricane in his mind had blown out.
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[P] Silver trinkets and golden leather
