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06-18-2015, 09:21 PM
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Rohan There are a few moments of silence that pass between them then. Rohan focuses his green eyes on the warm orange of the lava, intent on the ember haze that is distorted from behind the crystal wall—perhaps allowing his attention to become lost to the glowing cascade. Still, one fluted ear tilts towards the slender mare when he hears her hooves shuffling against the rough ground, the heat of her body radiating with his own as she stands at his shoulder. The Warlander considers a glance, but his pride has him staring as before, the hums and thuds of movement painting their picture for him. But then she laughs. Puckering his lips, he tilts his head, muscles in his neck flexing as he spares his gaze. Rohan eyes the chocolate mare curiously, his eyes narrowing. What could she possibly be laughing about? Is she laughing at him? The thought has him flattening his ears and whisking his tail indignantly (such is the manner of a creature riddled with testosterone and arrogance). But fortunately his thoughts don’t linger there for long. Their situation, their meeting, has not been particularly normal. On any other day, Rohan would go swaggering up to a pretty lass such as this, likely sweeping her off her feet with all his charm and grandeur—or that’s what he would like to think (and why shouldn’t he?!) Huffing heavily through his nose, the Warlander surrenders to a short chuckle, rather amused himself at their very…unconventional circumstance (wounded pride aside). It isn’t every day a woman goes to the trouble of quite literally knocking him over in the effort to gain his attentions—a view of the situation that has him feeling much better. Yes, it will suit him well. Consoled, his eyes are gleaming in their usual mischief again and there is a softer ruggedness to his features. Now the antlered stallion listens to the lady’s second attempt at an introduction. His laughter rumbles from his chest again, far more broad and genuine than before. “There are not many second chances in life, my dear Enna; but I suppose it would be better for the both of us if fortune were to be so gracious today,” he muses, as though the chance is his to give (and is it not? He could very well turn her away and send her skittering back up just as ungracefully she had come, but alas—his heart is too fond of beauty to let her go just yet). “My name is Rohan,” he continues with a crooked smirk, “and I don’t recall doing any jumping. Cavorting? Discovering? Gallivanting? Just maybe.” He laughs dryly, amused by his own humor. Shaking his head, he removes the length of his forelock from his eyes, gazing at the petite mare with an amusing intensity. “And did you not follow me?” He poses, one side of his brow rising, his single question holding a double-edge inquiry. Could she not answer her own question, then? tag; @[Enna] “Speech.”  |
Table by Alex
![[Image: 57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png]](http://orig06.deviantart.net/bb9e/f/2017/138/7/1/57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png)
please tag Rohan in all replies!
magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.
