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11-22-2015, 08:56 PM
His spotted King does not answer his own, rhetorical questions. And neither does the electrified, blue mare. Instead, they address each other, tension and energy building with each charged syllable. His ears twitch as curses are thrown like bullets from his lead’s lips, steps taking him away from the own and towards the retreating, blue-black pegasus. His own, darkening blue eyes glance towards the mare as she sparks in her fury, screeching for answers as her feathers stand on end. But his gaze quickly falls to the limp— now, thankfully, healed— Dragonback owl that is the cause of such anger. He shifts, opting to stand over the weak raptor while Mauja begins to rise to whatever fight this angry mare had tempted him into. Once safely over the owl, he returns to the chaotically blue mare, who seemed to harbor more anger than her feathers could contain. No wonder she sparked so angrily. He recognized the anger, knew that it was so loud that it deafened the ears against reason and compromise. “She may not be a normal owl, but surely one can aspire to greater things than normalcy,” his rumbling voice carries (perhaps futilely) towards the electric wings. Mauja met her anger for anger. Rightfully so, it was his companion she screeched about. Tembovu, however, in his great bulk, met her with impassivity— so as to not add fuel to the already combusting fire. There was no need to throw in an elephant’s rage. And, truthfully, he felt only relief that Irma was not dead, and only mild irritation at the irrational outbursts of the emotional female. Which, sadly, negated any beauty the otherwise striking mare would have held in his eyes. |
- table by Niki -
Please tag Tembovu.
