.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
Dance the warrior, the warrior
EINARR
Einarr would hold the boy as long as he needed. This embrace was meant to empower and comfort the youngling. Einarr had no selfish intent here. He was merely doing what needed to be done. In the process of saving(or so he thought) this stallion from death, Einarr felt a fondness grow for him. After this day, he would be certain to call Ashamin his friend.
Quickly the painted unicorn backpedaled and Einarr let his wings drop away. His crownless head lifted high and he looked down with unreadable red-brown eyes at Ashamin as he spoke. The boy spoke of his father and the strength the stallion had, and flashes of Einarr's father filled his primitive mind. Nizho was a stallion to be envied, just as Einarr suspected Ashamin's father to be. "Strength is one's own. No two have same strength. Ashamin have his own strength, not father's." Einarr spoke his broken words carefully, but confidently, for Ashamin to absorb. As strong as this stag's father may have been, and as admirable as it may seem, Ashamin could never be that. Ashamin could only be strong in an individual way, carefully carved and laid out for him. His destiny was where his strength waited, not in the shadow of his father.
The painted unicorn's next question made Einarr stay silent for a few moments. Brows knit close together, though gently, as a look of deep thought marked Einarr's face. The guardian looked the stallion up and down, letting the embrace of tail on wing melt the silence. "Einarr teach Ashamin to fight, but will to be warrior lay within Ashamin's heart."
if you bury me, i'll bury you
pixel by sourful
