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12-29-2014, 12:46 PM
EREBOS
Satisfaction, contentment, smugness in her incomprehension rolled and contorted through him; a glorious sense of pride and haughtiness, the blistering arrogance, the boiling arrogance, coiled in layers and lacquer – and for some seconds, he wanted to scare her, frighten her, be the bestial creature laden in the woods, springing behind trees and conspiring to swallow, consume, innocent knaves. She was sorry, but he wasn’t: his smirk, his snicker, widened and grew to an almost dangerous degree, if it weren’t worn on a child. His conceited, brewing sense of ego nearly urged him to pour and spill a whole series of information about their world, because he could recite stories and tales from ancestors, from conquests and triumphs, to defeats and insurgents, battles waged and fires kindled, but another portion of him stilled, tempered the ruminations. The scion stilled, narrowed his gaze, allowed his eyes to wander back over the immaculate horizon, the rising of peaks, the height of glacial expanse, the might, the weight, the ferocity of a dominion he held near and dear to his heart. He’d only offer so much of himself, of his brethren, to another, and nearly held it under lock and key, safeguarded, secure, but Spice asked, and the pervading essence of confidence bolstered his boldness, savored his sedition. “Of course! Don’t you have parents?” Insurrection inflated and curiosity convoluted, because he’d never been alone in the world – there had always been someone there, in the mist, in the thickets, in the rime and frost, to protect and shield him from the antics of the ignorant. He ignored the conjecture at who are you really, for pretending to be your grandfather in name and name only was a raw stretch for a boy barely a year, and carefully tiptoed around the subject by bestowing her the herald of his herd, but not the location. “I live in the Aurora Basin. Where’s your home?” |
