my father was an oak

the Rift

[PRIVATE] my father was an oak

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386

Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8

Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD

Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time

10-21-2014, 09:20 PM

I am a stone, unaffected

Rain hell down onto me

Loretta stopped, the wind whispering gently in her ears as they perked to the hoofbeats of a newcomer. She lowered her head some, nearly level with her shoulders, and a warning, rumbling growl gave way from the depths of her throat. Her amber eyes shifted onto her bond, sending the image of the orange stranger--to her--to Archibald. A single flick of his inky ears calmed his bondmate, silencing her threat. She led me in Isilme. Be still. Obediently, Loretta turned and cantered towards her master, though her fur still prickled along her spine. Archibald seemed to trust the orange mare and her orange dragon, but Loretta was not so easily swayed.

"You look fair, Evangeline." The Captain turned his molten gaze towards the mare, the change in her face from aging and their separation not diminishing the warmth he had always remembered to follow and embody the Pure. He had not seen the young, but wise, mare since they both fought to protect their families from the shades that attacked Helovia. "It is Archibald the Dauntless, now. Many things have changed since you ruled the Mystic Woodlands." Archibald's voice was flat, and his eyes hardened some from the state they had been in when he was watching his companion play in the snow.

Archibald turned his gaze back towards the ocean horizon. Yes, plenty of things had changed. Like Roanne the Sentinel. He led alongside the orange mare here in his presence, and Archibald had always speculated silently that there were feelings deeper and more passionate that sparked between them, more than just a political partnership. After all, he had been there when they were made leaders together. He knew how they looked at each other. Clearing his throat, Archibald shifted his body and turned to face Evangeline fully. She was smaller than he remembered. "How do you serve the Edge?" Parts of him wondered if her desires were for leadership again, or if, like the Sentinel, she had lost herself and her ambitions after the demise of their home.

@[Evangeline]

^{Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image}