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09-25-2012, 05:27 PM
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The filly smiled at him with almost contagious enthusiasm. It was good to see such innocence and joy, especially in the midst of all the problems he'd encountered lately. "The pleasure is mine, miss Azeen." He dawned a grin and bowed his head politely at the child. She was ivory, flecked with darker specks, with tiny wings crowning her back. Leander wondered if the filly had learned to fly yet; by the looks of her coordination on the ground, he doubted it. Fondly, he remembered his own youth. Up until the attack which left him a scarred haunch, it had been a pleasant time. Dark, feathered limbs carried him closer to the little one, only to stop mid-step at the entrance of another. A white winged form dashed up next to the babe. At first, he assumed that this was the foal's mother, judging by her instantly protective stance. But once the dame spoke, it was clear that it wasn't so. The pearly maiden gave him a nervous look. Frightened, likely, at his looming sight. Carefully, Leander studied the mare. The pegasus doe would have been what he would have called beautiful, had his heart not been longing for someone it shouldn't. Sighing, the palomino took a step away from her. "I was just about to ask the same thing. I'm Leander, a Warrior of the Dragon's Throat." Gold eyes flashed in the grown female's direction, with warmth and undertones of pride at the mention of his title. There was no scent of herd-lands on either the mare or the filly. Were they both homeless?  |
