The rose and golden hues painted the skies and earth, as if the canvas above was not large enough to contain it. As he looks over her while speaking, they begin to color her dark hide, and even the golden had to admit, the color suited her. It was getting harder to remember that she might be the daughter or some evil rotting corpse, but perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing.

Her head dips in return, playful and coy. It was not often the bold smile of the golden’s was returned. There were not many who could stand to see it at all for they knew what it meant. Haldir though, was not of the same persuasion on the girl. Mostly the blame lay in the sharp eyed dragon. As the black creature slid through the golden air, the deer’s ears fall back and head rises. The weight of the antlers upon his head gave him some assurance, but he still watched the creature with a firm suspicion.

The dark stag’s worries were quite ignored by the gold. He was having too much fun watching the girl’s reaction. The defiant turn of her head, and sharpness of her eyes. Maybe she was playful, but she was more proud than anything. Certainly she was not the usual mare who looked upon this smiling gold and thought only of fears and suspicions. That was rather encouraging. It wasn’t often he found someone of his own….persuasion. Someone who knew how to toss the ball back. It draws him out all the more, and the golden can not contain a deep hearted laughter. “No damsel will most certainly not do for you then I think.” And he seemed quite glad for it.

Of course that left the questions of what exactly was she. The tilt of her head and smile answered that question more than her name. Nymeria. He had never heard that name before. An annoyance he was glad to be quickly correcting. Her repeals doing little to damper his mood. (She need not worry about discouraging him.) He was quite ready for a good sport. “Dear me, friends only eh? I don’t tend to make many of those.” His grin curls most wickedly, and for once he didn’t care if she noticed, for he had other plans. The magic laced upon his gilded tongue, and it rolled out smoother than usual. “But Nymeria, we are friends.” Let’s see how this fun played out.

The world about them seemed to be moving on, burning in a fiery death, and a stray glance of the gold towards behind him sees only gold and orange. The sun beginning its last moments, sinking down into the golden sea of its own making. Rather bright, but soon it would be night, and all would be as it should, as he preferred. Dark, and moonlit.


OOC :: Thranduil is using his gilded tongue magic in the gold text.
"Speech"