Now this was better. The golden was walking in the freezing snow, wandering back from the cliffs not feeling a damn thing. He wasn’t thinking of black and white memories, nor livid color nightmares. Not even the harrow feelings of an empty chest gutted his whole body. He was walking in the snow, numb but the first of winters cold, and he finally felt good.

The golden had risen from attempts at sleep this night with a great frustration. Each nerve had bristled with anxiousness, and legs sizzled with a readiness. He couldn’t stand it, the mountains of the valley seemed like walls, holding him in. The golden was ready to get out, get away, and move on. Haldir even, feeling at the last touches of horror slipping away, was happy to get out of the dark cave and followed. His love was always the stars above, and was always ready to venture under them. What lead them here was a last goodbye of sorts to the rocky road this season had brought. The gold was leaving it all behind. Here in the northern most reaches he could feel at last winter’s coming winds, and they numbed him. Here he could breathe, the cold making his mind as slick as the ice already forming under the snow. It freed him, he could think once more as he should.

Was this the reality though or some glorified pep talk full of lies? While the golden walks, feeling this cleansing by the numb cold, was he pulling this all from his imagination? So many dark days had passed in this season. Can you really just walk out the door and ignore so much a part of yourself? The golden man can. It might have been a sinful lie, dooming him from ever living out what he truly desires, but like a drug, he couldn’t help it, it felt so damn good. It felt good to be numb, even If it was a figment of his imagination. It felt so good to walk about this world without a care.

Of course, as much as he had hoped to ignore it, this land held more than numbing cold. How long ago was it since he had been here? Weeks? Months? The distances were a blur, but the memory this land threatened to destroy all the gold’s wonderful pep talk was not. There, farther down she lay, the mare who died of a broken heart. Somewhere, near the bottom of is satchel, there still rested a grey feather. So even while he had turned at recognizing where he was to head back, trying as he might to talk himself above it, the golden’s spirit was fragile. Time was precious, and he could not sit around and wait. Coming from where the place the gold seized upon the idea that he needed a distraction.

Boy, did he get a good one. Thunders of hooves drew the golden up from where he walked, and Haldir, who had been trailing behind came forward. A figure of white and black flew low from the dark night, harks flip back ready for attack. The figure was not flying, it was falling, and it skids in the grand display. In a most welcomed surprise, especially to himself, the golden laughs. Such a sound he had not made since Tallsun, and like an electric shock to his body it light up lights and energy not found since before the invasion. Haldir even looked up with forward ears and a smile to hear his bonded make such a sound. Now this really felt good. Laughing at another’s expense was a forgotten past time, and he relished the entertainment from this place.

A shout snarls through the dim dark of this moonless night and the gold’s grin turns into a wicked smirk. Oh, so this is the game they wanted to play? The golden was a quick tongue, so ready for a distraction, so ready to move, and act. After so many days of slow and low moods, his adrenaline and wit were quick and ready for the draw. “A hilarious joke.” The shadows between them hid a great deal, but he was already sizing up the other. A distraction, and a call to action, yes, that felt right. From the scare of attack before his body was ready, taunt and gearing to let loose. He reaches back, pulling off cloak and satchel, though grabbing a pole from the pouch. “Looks like you need some more lessons eh twinkle toes?” It was cocky, vain, and arrogant tongue, and it felt so good to spit those insults like they didn’t come with a price tag.


OOC :: Man I tried so hard to work him up to the first attack in this, but I just couldn't make him aggressive enough, so the first one's yours. =]
ATK:: 0/3
WORD:: 780
Items:: Circlet, polearm (Just took off his golden cloak and satchel)
Identities:: Ampere, Cashmere
Injuries:: None
Summary:: Thranduil, startled by Roskuld, throws out a taunt, then taking off his cloak and satchel shows he's ready for a distraction from his past few troubles.
"Speech"