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02-23-2016, 10:26 AM
“It didn’t miss.” The hiss was menacing, so much more so than taunting and amused words uttered earlier by the shape-shifting man. The King’s eyes narrowed marginally, cobalt hardening at the threatening undercurrent, “Indeed, it did not,” rumbling words were plain and hard. There was no apology in them— there was something about this transfiguring stallion that put him on edge. Indeed, beneath the seeping serum of his burns, muscles had grown taunt and ready. Though their tension brought his attention back to the sweet agony of his burned neck, “And, it seems, neither did you,” his neck flexes slightly, gesturing and bringing attention to the scalded skin along it’s length.
Ears tilt forward as the Laurelin’s wings flamed around his seeping burn wound, his great head shifting to better watch just what the man was doing. And, as flames billowed around Gaucho’s hind leg, suddenly the wound was no more— and the pain evidently left the dun’s face. “Yet another useful trick,” the Elephant commented dryly. It seemed this man (now introducing himself as “Thranduil”) was full of surprises.
Though the golden-turned-dun man had introduced him with the phrase “at your service,” the King duly noted the lack of offer to heal his own wounds. He studied the piercing blue eyes for a moment; this man reminded him of the covetous council members in Dorobo. Delighted to be amused, quick to turn a appeasing phrase (did he not do the same?), and even quicker to turn waspish and venomous the moment their avarice was threatened.
The Elephant, unsettled and mistrusting, felt no favorable emotions swell towards the golden. He had already unleashed his newly discovered, explosive magic on the man. He did not wish to be further indebted and entwined; he could find a Moon Doctor to heal his wounds. Glancing back over the Flats in the direction of the Edge once, he retuned his attention to the man before him, “Apologies for any inconvenience, Thrandiul. Though it seems you are no worse for wear,” a lopsided grin crossed his face, but did not relieve the wary lines around his eyes, “I will see myself to the Edge’s Doctors. Until we meet again.” Though the Elephant was unsure if he wanted to cross paths with the Laurelin again.
Ears tilt forward as the Laurelin’s wings flamed around his seeping burn wound, his great head shifting to better watch just what the man was doing. And, as flames billowed around Gaucho’s hind leg, suddenly the wound was no more— and the pain evidently left the dun’s face. “Yet another useful trick,” the Elephant commented dryly. It seemed this man (now introducing himself as “Thranduil”) was full of surprises.
Though the golden-turned-dun man had introduced him with the phrase “at your service,” the King duly noted the lack of offer to heal his own wounds. He studied the piercing blue eyes for a moment; this man reminded him of the covetous council members in Dorobo. Delighted to be amused, quick to turn a appeasing phrase (did he not do the same?), and even quicker to turn waspish and venomous the moment their avarice was threatened.
The Elephant, unsettled and mistrusting, felt no favorable emotions swell towards the golden. He had already unleashed his newly discovered, explosive magic on the man. He did not wish to be further indebted and entwined; he could find a Moon Doctor to heal his wounds. Glancing back over the Flats in the direction of the Edge once, he retuned his attention to the man before him, “Apologies for any inconvenience, Thrandiul. Though it seems you are no worse for wear,” a lopsided grin crossed his face, but did not relieve the wary lines around his eyes, “I will see myself to the Edge’s Doctors. Until we meet again.” Though the Elephant was unsure if he wanted to cross paths with the Laurelin again.
He paid for his sins. He was saved.
But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.
@Thranduil I'm happy to have this fade, now, if you're okay with it! :D
Please tag Tembovu.
