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Libertad looks at his mother, one ear pricks against his skull.. She seems to always be wherever he goes and he can’t deny she is quick to ruin his fun. When he springs away from his father his mother swoops in and drives him back. Then she starts lick down his mane and he looks at her with a pouty and annoyed expression. “I’mma a warrior.. I don’t need m’mane licked.” He says puffing up his chest and pricking his ears back, but that is the only protest he offers. He follows his mother back to his father and stares at the tall stallion. Quietly he notes the scars and muscle that litters his father’s frame and he tilts his head, quickly assuming the man is a warrior. Of course he is a warrior, Mother is a warrior and would only let someone strong sire he and his sister.
He then hears a familiar voice and immediately his expression lightens as d’Arcy steps from the shadows. He shifts awkwardly when he realizes she probably had seen their mother’s doting actions.. If she had, she makes no mention of it. d’Arcy simply presses herself close, and he feels complete again. Even the smallest of distance or the slightest sliver of time apart leaves him longing for his twin. Her magic sinks it’s claws into him and he feels that need for her, that need to be close and he reaches out to nuzzle her gently giving her a boyish grin. When her attention turns away from him he frowns and watches his father. He stares jealously at Déodat only for a moment before he fixes his eyes back on d’Arcy. He needn’t worry , he tells himself, she’ll come back to him.. She always does, she needs him just as he needs her. Only together are they truly complete.
As Déodat answers his sisters questions he watches the canine and tilts his head curiously. Then it comes bounding over and he looks at his father. “It’s ugly,” he says. “You shoulda killed it.” He then looks back at the dog. “Ugly, ugly, ugly.. Smelly to.. Kinda like you.” He says looking back at the stallion. His awareness of social norms has grown, but he can’t find himself to care what might be deemed ‘rude’ when there is a truth that must be spoken.
@Nyx @d'Arcy
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