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06-18-2015, 10:44 PM
A S H A M I N
Back on His Feet
Back on His Feet
Tiamat's words conveyed a forgiveness of sorts--one that, from her, Ashamin was willing to accept. He was not sure he could forgive himself, not yet, but he felt a twisted swell of pride when she called his scars impressive, as if they are not simply bold markings of his shame and error. But she was right, Ashamin supposed. We all made mistakes. His, perhaps, a slightly more crippling one than most, but a mistake that many others had likely once made, too.
The painted stallion watched, amused, as she imitated his motion. The brushing of her tail against his legs was a sight even to see. He admired it's blue feather-duster plumage, so much more elegant than the small tuft he bore and the scratch above that. And when she shifted, so did he. He let his black eyes fall and look into the white ones she bore so intensely. What was it like to see through that sort of a clarity? Did they feel, to her, like the snow? Did they feel as they looked to him?
Ashamin let the thought fade. It was nothing he could understand, nothing other than an abstract idea of who the mare before him really was. Because she was certainly mysterious--he could tell just by looking at her. She was no ordinary creature, not with that look like she'd just walked out of the ocean and into his life, somehow, like a blessing on four delicate hooves. She was kind to him, and kind when she didn't have to be. This, he would not forget.
So when she mentioned the Aurora Basin with apparent excitement, his expression perked up as well. So she knew of his home, then? Was she of it, too? Ashamin smiled eagerly, his unraveling tail beginning to wave at his back with gentle, easy excitement that he struggled to control. "The Aurora Basin, yes," the buck answered hastily, trying to hide the obvious excitement from his awkwardly phrased reply. "Have you made it your home as well? It would be good," he said, trailing his gaze for a moment towards what he thought was North, "good to travel with another in such good spirits."
His questions, both the asked and the implied, were crisp--his eyes filled with a deep and hidden expectancy. He knew what he wanted the answer to be. Ashamin felt the pressure of his heart clenching against the tight grip of the white sarong, and for a second he thought he felt a second heartbeat there, too--the heartbeat of another life, one still yet to come.
If you'll have me
I will guide you
If you'll take this wound
I'll comfort you
Have this charm and
take my delight,
let me lead you home.
[[Tagged: @[Tiamat].]]
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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