lordly laurelin and the pauper prince.

[OPEN] lordly laurelin and the pauper prince.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549

Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT

Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie

10-21-2015, 11:47 AM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2015, 11:51 AM by Rikyn.)

The interest in the conversation, which had been almost a barrage, slows to a narrow trickle as we stand in the warmth of the bubbling water, his tail rising above the surface in a sloppy display of agitation – one that even I, dense and brutish in the skills of perception, the motives and moods of others, can read.

It is, after all, an ancient display of aggression among our people.

The sound of water dripping and dropping all about us is taken as my cue to move my way out, the first step revealing that the heat of the pool has done its job, the once tensed muscles loosened and no longer sore. With one ear still trained upon the Lord, I follow the path of his crowned companion, my belly, still thickened by winter’s cloak, drips from the straggly black, coffee, and milk chocolate hairs, tail occasionally swaying with liberal ease from one side to the other, dribbling water in its arcing wake.

I don’t shake the water away; I let it tickle down my skin, warm at first, until the wind finds its downward trail, and the dark dampness of my pelt is submerged in a chill that is lightly combated by the full sunshine above.

At long last, he asks the question that has danced about his mouth, giving up on his elusions and trails of intrigue that I, and surely many others he has met, refuse to oblige, and at last earning a glance from me which does not sparkle with deviousness or a lack of understanding.

A warrior is meant to crush things which resemble spiders, snakes, and wolves, not to whisper their insidious tongues – and while I do not desire to end the predatory presence here on this mountain, one that had seemingly always been, I refuse to dance among the weaving jabs of their silver tongues. That he had conceded to my methods is enough to replace an air of friendliness about me that had nearly been lost only moments before, one ear flipping aside sadly as the golden light in my eyes darkens.

"I don’t know," I admit, not liking the truth as it sounds in the air, but forcing myself to hear and taste it none the less – though I don’t admit I lost her, as I had openly admitted to my sire, "she never told anyone as far as I know - not even father."

@Thranduil