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Damn. A growl rolled from the golden son’s deep throat and reverberated in the frozen air. Earth eyes still burned with gold, at remembering that pretty pained bird’s block for her warrior. He would have to see to her too one day. Snorting and kicking out a hind leg in frustration as he paces just outside the Falls. The circlet about his head clinks against his horns, and it stills the beast. Mind, all a flame and fire with the molten frustration, freezes to match his surrounds. When it moves again, it is cooler, and more calculating. The golden’s leafen star face falls back to a seriousness few rarely see. This was not what he wanted, but it was not the end. His little riddle had ben but a canon fired across that idiot bay’s bow in warning. Though he had hoped it would have been a short, quick little exchange, the gold now settled that this indeed would be a more serious affair. Looking up the gold sighs with finality. It was dark and deep, with no moon yet rising to fill the world with evening light. Snorting the gold looks back to the snow covered ground and looks to find a suitable place.
It was not that he was scared. The golden was never scared, of that he will tell you relentlessly. Nah, it facing the reality of his last struggle that caused him to drag his cloven hooves. Not a single hit had he made on the damned black beast, and the golden hip still bore gray scars, where the thick winter coat had not had a chance to grow. It had gotten him into the Throat, and for that the gold should be contented, but it had broken a part of him to loose so badly to a blind man. He could say this time would be different, and certainly he had different goals, and the circlet reminded him, different advantages, but still an unease rested on his chest. A rough hack spits rom his lips as he walks, looking like a certain pep talk. This would not work though. Even if doubt lingered in his bones, the slightest hint of that to the bay he sought would ruin his carefully woven schemes. Tassled tail twitches along the snow covered ground as a long sigh rattles through his bones, and he stops. The golden son was the master of minds, and keeper of masks. Shaking those twin horns, the golden face tucks, then re-emerges, changed.
Gold sparks in those earthen eyes, and a laughter lifts and rolls through his chest. It’s all fake but the word doesn’t know that. He has to do this, he needs what he desires, and so it must be done, win or lose. Pawing at the snow the golden can stand to be still no longer, masked or not the adrenaline has already begun pounding through his blood. Stepping off he lifts his golden limbs high above the snow in a showy two beat, lacing on the last of his light, and sassy countenance which would be as a second weapon to him in the fight. Trotting high he moves about his chosen site, a snowy meadow, clear of trees, but with a few bushes bravely poking through the snow like spectators waiting for the show. The golden would give it to them, but he could not do this alone. The moon, had begun at last to rise above the horizon and threw a dramatic bean across the snow, seeming to want to watch the action as well. With a final laughter he stops and lifts that horned head high to give out a piercing call.
Looking to the meadow around him, hoping that bay beast is nearby, he roars out across the white expanse. “You have what I desire Oxy, bring it to me, or I will take it, by force!” Another deep chuckle rolls out and he tosses into the air with its light spirit, “Can’t you see, I’m trying to help you quit for your girlfriend!?” That blue bird was far from the golden’s true thoughts though, but it should get that bay roaring out in full force. Looking about the snow covered, moon lite meadow the gold stills himself. He still has not called the circlet to the task, but it suited his style more to flash it out at the last minute. So that clever item would remain a lovely surprise. With one last heavy sigh though the gold resolves himself, and flashes another smirk about him. In the end he would win, whether he won the battle or not.
OOC :: Thran is challenging Oxy for his leather bag. This continued from Thran's attempt to steal it on the stealth board.
TAG:: @[Oxy]
WC::778
ATK::0/4 +defense
TIME:: 3 Days Between
MAGIC/COMPANIONS:: Allowed
SETTINGS:: A snow covered meadow between the Falls and Heavenly Fields at night, but the moon is rising. Snow is about a foot deep. Small bushes dot the terrain which is mostly smooth.
INJURIES:: None
SUMMARY:: Thranduil calls to Oxy teasingly, then waits in the middle of the meadow for him.
ETA:: Fixed ATK and time limits due to challenge rules.
"speech"
Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared
Be prepared!
Be prepared!
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
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