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10-04-2014, 10:22 PM
This world was being too nice. Falling too perfectly into his hands. It was just too easy. The golden, as relieved as he was to hear her voice of assurance, laced with sympathy, did start at her next line. Here was the catch. He was the golden son though. He could stand any pain. Taking a deep breath he hold it as she moves around. A feather light touch tips on his back and his entire hinds flinch. Steeling himself the golden locks himself down as she brushes at the wounds. A churning of his gut rolls about him. Fate truly was trying to get in one last kick before it let him go. Every scrap across the mud, even though from the lightest touch made the golden man squirm. It only kept him steady knowing, not only was this trouble almost over, but the Throat was in his grasp.
At last she steps away. The golden’s face unhinges, as he looks forward a glow rises. Harks lift and his body braces. The light was coming from behind. His pins his ears back again. The girl had no reason to harm him, it must be part of the healing. She had promised. Still the golden, as sly as he was, was the most untrusting of creatures. Body leaned away, and his head raises, spinning as it did. It was the moment of hesitation that stopped him from breaking the spell. A warmth washed over his flank like a wave upon the sand. Body froze. Another wave, then another, washing farther and deeper. The heat grew, becoming hot, but a welcomed hot. A soothing hot. Easing tired muscles and aching pains. The searing scars were lost in its touch. Waves of warmth like those desert suns of old massaged in his cold bones. A long slow sigh leaves him and the twin horned head lowers. Earth eyes nearly shut in peace.
It all rescinds though. The waves begin to pull back, like the tide washing out again. Earth eyes open and he can feel the low dull aches, but they are tamed by the heat. As it leaves over his hips the gold holds his breath, but where searing knives had been digging in his skin is only soreness. Another exhale and the golden for a moment stands perfectly quiet. Though only a memory the heat waves had calmed more than his hip. The girls speaks though, breaking the spell, reminding the golden of his next target. A smile, though weary, cross his lips as he lifts his head up to look back over at her. The steadiness of his body was also a relief, though he still does not dare put weight on his hip. Not wanting to end the sweet simpleness of being sore, however pathetic the sentiment was. Instead he smiles at her. “Thank you Andromeda, I am certainly in your debt.” The gold was glad he was once again in his right mind, otherwise it would have made it impossible to say.
Now on to the real business though. The gold looks at her, still not daring to look back at his hip. “Perhaps then I might trouble you more.” That Spanish neck curls and a sheepish look comes upon his face. It runs his natural beauty the vain man knows, but all the better to help this sell. Looking back up and around behind him, he lets a flash of the previous agony rejoin his relief. Remembering whatever caused his pain. “You see, I’ve had…a rather, well…The Basin and I disagreed over some….umm, issues.” Looking back at the poor girl the he gives a small smile, like a whipped child trying to find favor. “Stating my place before…well, it was the realization, you understand. Some good outcast I am though…I’m a terrible defender it seems.” A small chuckle forces its way through. It’s rough and jagged, as if it had been a long time since he’d made such a noise. “Do you think…” He seems to hesitate, worried at the question, afraid and assured of rejection. “…I might seek place in your herd…the Throat, was it?” He looks don again, sheepishly, seeming to try and put himself together. “Please, I will earn my keep. I am very gifted at-“ Ah crap-THINK. Not a beat is missed. “-telling futures with the stars…and I learned the trade of making hides-“ Voice falls away. “-in the Basin.” He drops contact with her and seems to fold up into his own place. “I will understand though….” The gold seems to have returned to a silent, huddled mass of a loner who should not be alone. A creature who once thrived on the pride of herd only to have it pulled out from under him. He’s a creature out of place, he does not belong in this wood and ilck. I it not the purpose he was meant to serve. Damn. Someone get this golden man an Oscar.
OOC ::
"speech"
Warmth of heart and waves of heat,
Can not make that ice stabbed heart beat.
Can not make that ice stabbed heart beat.
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
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