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03-02-2015, 11:52 PM
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The idea that the Throat did not need to detain Confutatis quieted Gaucho. He would indeed let his herd know that the skull-marked mare was to be treated with aggression and hostility, but that he did not need to deliver her back to the icy North was a pleasing tidbit of information. The warrior always liked to deal with his problems in-house.
Gaucho listened to the Foresaken's account of her nephew, Hototo, in silence. His gaze traced the movement of her jaw as her skull gently traced some invisible dance through the air. He had never encountered the Earth Singer, as he was called. The child of the Earth was entirely unknown to him, that was until the magic that coursed through his veins had slain the boy. The looking of dying horror and realization was the only greeting he had ever received from Hototo, and the only one he ever would receive as well. As the conversation turned to Midas, Gaucho's lips returned to a thin line of disapproval. His dark gaze appeared surprised as he learned that Midas had been the one to turn down a friendship with the Basin. The dun knew that his former ally and friend had always held a deep seated mistrust of their unicorn neighbors. Until recently, Gaucho had harboured the same dogmatic hate that the paint had, but oddly it hadn't take much to persuade him of his ignorance. It was true that the Basin had invaded the Throat not so long ago, but the words of Hotaru and Ophelia had seemed so sensible. And not only their words, but their actions had only served as further justification in his mind that whatever strain had been placed upon the two herds during Kri's reign, was no longer there. Gaucho had simply assumed that Midas had just brought his inclinations and biases with him - but to learn that he had turned down an offer of friendship was shocking. Midas has always seemed so wise, so militantly-minded with enough political savvy to make him fairly well rounded. Was his painted ex-friend harbouring a secret army that neither he nor the Foresaken knew about? It would be the only explanation that would make any sense to Gaucho at this point. "Busy." Gaucho voiced, chewing the word in his mouth first like a piece of fat, before spitting it out. "Like the way he too busy on Island, for your sister, and nephew?" He let his rhetorical question go unanswered as her history lesson swallowed up his attention. Had Kri ever spoken of such events? He couldn't actually recall a time when she had ... all he knew was that the feisty and petite former Sultana had been allies with Mirage, the leader of the Edge. As far as Gaucho knew, Pegasi dwelt in the Throat, Equines in the Edge, and Unicorns in the Basin. The Falls - or former Foothills - had always been some weird commie bastardization of species. That's how it had always been .. at least ever since Gaucho had arrived. They hadn't done many history lessons in his time as a warrior-in-training. "Gaucho not know Deimos but ... It better to be hated for what you are, than crimes that you not commit." Would Ophelia know of what he was referring? He might either have meant a general statement, that a herd should not be penalized for the crimes of its former rules, or was he referring to his specific circumstance? Either way, his words seemed true. As she offered modesty and gratitude, Gaucho shook his antlered skull. In truth, the dun was happy to receive Ophelia. She was one of the few who seemed to know when best to shout, and when best to whisper. Ophelia's presence always demanded attention, irregardless of what form she took: gentle ally, or warrior queen. The Wildfire respected and valued both. Reaching around, the dun plucked something from between his feathers. It was a small item - something crafted out of metal that was vaguely in the shape of a dragon's head. Where the tail of the dragon would be seemed to be a rise and fall of several roughly equal shapes: a key. Soon the Throat would become an island. Already the ability to do so was within the Wildfire, and yet it was not used. He would wait until his herd had completed their questing, until the magical bridge was complete. Isolating his herd members was as much of a mistake as isolating his enemies. Extending his muzzle, Gaucho placed the key upon the sands so that Ophelia could pick it up at her leisure. "Soon Throat will be an Island .. But wings not the only way on and off. Throat appreciate Basin's aid in completing our quest. We also - Gaucho also - appreciates continued friendship. This key will open gate. There is no lock - key just needs to be close enough to bridge to activate. Then you will be transferred across with wings of fire." Although it wasn't a reality yet, it all sounded very grand to Gaucho. And, as a creature gifted with the ability to fly speaking with one who was not, he assumed the idea of being able to glide - even if completely artificially - would sound wondrous. @[Ophelia] Gaucho the Wildfire
If this is to end in fire then we should all burn together. |
Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.
