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06-22-2015, 06:21 AM
Beneath the impish, mischievous gaze, the scion tried to determine if he liked this mare or not. She reminded him all too well of Essetia – and that encounter hadn’t been pleasant. Perhaps it was the tipped-back ears, the indignant tone, or the way she stared at Orsino, but he found himself incensed, pricked, and nettled, the exuberance gone, turning and twisting to wiles, to miles of deceit, to layers and lacquer of whims and mercurial pursuits that could have her head spinning. She held a regime of petulance even he, in youth, in childhood, hadn’t unleashed, and it made him almost yearn to leave. He half-expected a lecture. The miniature heathen attempted to piece together why her actions stirred him towards distaste, spawning a circular pattern along his skull. She didn’t seem very fond of merriment, which he held in spades, she didn’t seem very fond of winter, which was what his home was almost entirely housed in, and she didn’t seem very fond of him. For a newcomer, she certainly had her opinions, her faults, and her flaws, and maybe she was too far overcome, too overwhelmed, by all the new notions, all the new sentiments. Had every single piece of information become consuming and devouring? Did this mean he should give her a chance, and not pilfer off into the hillsides?
He pondered on this for a length, tilting his head this way and that as more and more individuals came threading through the snow-covered firs. Orsino maneuvered completely underneath him now, regarding everyone with a steady gaze and a secure roof, as Erebos proffered warm gestures and bobs of his head; they were all his elders, and despite his princely ranking, were above him in some regard. The little beast rather enjoyed the next one, silver and blue-eyed and hailing from his mountain range, because she handed over slivers and splinters of mockery – he made sure his gaze met Enna’s in devilment and delight, before his gaze flickered towards Mesec of Dragon’s Throat (who he likely could have stared at for hours; what an intriguing coat pattern, what a wingspan – any perusal or study would have to wait, but the other stag was impressive), and a striped stallion, Tembovu of the World’s Edge.
Thereafter they looked towards him, for he still had an offer standing. They must have been curious, or mildly intrigued, on his methods, on his madness, on how one would remove snow or conquer the endless bouts of Frostfall. He shrugged, aware of their eyes, donning a cool, composed series of features as the attention was laced and layered upon him –
And promptly set the snow on fire.
The blaze curled and coiled within him, wild and untamed, savage and blistering, emerging as he beckoned its temper, as he summoned its ferocious meddling, dipping his head and dragging his maw through the powder as he maneuvered in a hasty, blinding circle of embers, of cinders, of infernos, around the golden mare. He never touched her, never waned towards her frame, never sought to get the burning barbs near her – simply allowed the vestiges of his powers to collide, to mold, to mesh into the pits and pendulums of frost, watching as they melted around her. The child raised his head after returning from where he’d started, notching his wicked gaze to Cosette’s, and bobbing his head in triumphant resolution. “Done!”
The aftermath of his actions caused an enormous range of giant puddles (which looked like absolute fun to stomp and roll and splash in; and he was close to doing just that, when he remembered he was here to recruit – there was a moment where his stare fixed resolutely on Enna and hoped to inspire her to do what he craved), pooling into ravishing amounts, slowly trickling down into the dormant soil. The child wasn’t sure if she would be inclined to hate that too, but he didn’t really care either. Instead, he launched into answering questions and providing some sentiments of his home, half-hoping he’d be able to salvage whatever bitter remnants still remained. “Right! You’re at the Threshold. Newcomers have to arrive here.” Unless of course, one was born within Helovia, like himself; he brightened, just a little, at the chance to wax poetical about his herd. His words filled with a bastion of pride, glowing, luminescent, brightening and plunging into the scene. “You could reside in the Aurora Basin! We have mountains, valleys, caves, and a lake that never freezes! And hot springs – which are perfect for this time of year.”
OOC :: @[Enna] @[Cosette]
"speech"
