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10-30-2015, 10:41 PM
Tembovu
The mammoth stallion noticed, with unease and suspicion, the reluctance with which the pale father used his magic again. He hoped it was from an inherent need to ration his magic— not from Tembovu revealing that it might help him with his aching head. He was willing to give the grieving father the benefit of the doubt (for now). But he would remember this, for an elephant never forgets.
The mountain-scape that grew around them and the breeze that ruffled the grass swept away the traces of of pain from his skull. A soft sigh of relief escapes him, blowing away the bad humor that irked him with this Rift illness. It was gone now, he could feel the sickness leave him, as his abdomen slowly unclenched its cramps. “Yes, it did. You have my thanks, Vadim,” his low voice answers his question. Though the ire had left him, he still felt a string of tension connecting the two stallions.
The white filly beside him was, truly, the only reason Tembovu felt pressured to lead him into the Edge— though he would be hard pressed to turn away a man who had just lost his mate, regardless if a foal was involved.
Mauja appeared them, speaking softly from the mists. The elephant nods his great head in greeting, but does not interrupt the spotted lead while he addresses Vadim. His voice nearly sounded disembodied, so toneless were his words. Tembovu’s ears, streaked with dried blood, perk towards his Queen. But, before he can study the reason for such lifelessness, Erthe draws his attention once again.
Dark blue eyes rest momentarily on the three-headed dog, before looking at the filly. A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and drew up his thick lips, “A Glazier crafts and builds things for the herd,” he explains to the little one, “It can be fun, as long as the Moon’s magic doesn’t overwhelm you.” Indeed, the crafter magic at times chilled his chest. “And yes, you may choose a trade, Erthe. Though you’ll have to decide which one you like best,” he outright grins at the young one. “There are healers, spies, soldiers, and seers. Along with crafters, of course.”
His eyes sweep back to Vadim, allowing him to address Mauja however he saw fit. It was not his place to share nor explain the sorrows of others. And it was clear introductions were not needed, so he stayed silent.
The mountain-scape that grew around them and the breeze that ruffled the grass swept away the traces of of pain from his skull. A soft sigh of relief escapes him, blowing away the bad humor that irked him with this Rift illness. It was gone now, he could feel the sickness leave him, as his abdomen slowly unclenched its cramps. “Yes, it did. You have my thanks, Vadim,” his low voice answers his question. Though the ire had left him, he still felt a string of tension connecting the two stallions.
The white filly beside him was, truly, the only reason Tembovu felt pressured to lead him into the Edge— though he would be hard pressed to turn away a man who had just lost his mate, regardless if a foal was involved.
Mauja appeared them, speaking softly from the mists. The elephant nods his great head in greeting, but does not interrupt the spotted lead while he addresses Vadim. His voice nearly sounded disembodied, so toneless were his words. Tembovu’s ears, streaked with dried blood, perk towards his Queen. But, before he can study the reason for such lifelessness, Erthe draws his attention once again.
Dark blue eyes rest momentarily on the three-headed dog, before looking at the filly. A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and drew up his thick lips, “A Glazier crafts and builds things for the herd,” he explains to the little one, “It can be fun, as long as the Moon’s magic doesn’t overwhelm you.” Indeed, the crafter magic at times chilled his chest. “And yes, you may choose a trade, Erthe. Though you’ll have to decide which one you like best,” he outright grins at the young one. “There are healers, spies, soldiers, and seers. Along with crafters, of course.”
His eyes sweep back to Vadim, allowing him to address Mauja however he saw fit. It was not his place to share nor explain the sorrows of others. And it was clear introductions were not needed, so he stayed silent.
Please tag Tembovu.
