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01-30-2016, 12:30 PM
I do believe in fairies!
The pale stallion picked his way through the landscape, making note of which places were littered with jagged glass and which weren't. After recently discovering the glass' existence, Quentin had developed an interest in crafting with it. Of course, he'd yet to master or even attempt the act, but none the less, Quentin had begun to gather the most attractive pieces. That was a start right?
Snorting, the male halted, his hazel eyes taking in his current surroundings. His new home was crowded with trees and, if one dared to venture, the sudden drop of cliffs seemed to sneak up on you. He'd made the mistake of gallivanting around the land and had nearly found himself dropping into the water below. Shaking his head, the stud continued on. "It's quiet, no?"
Quentin halted at the mutterings of the voices in his head. He noticed the silence earlier, but hadn't really paid it any heed. “It is....” There were no birds chirping, at least, none in earshot. Shifting his weight from hoof to hoof, the stallion's body language voiced his uneasiness. Suddenly, a small red bird swooped down and grabbed at the stallion's mane before flying off to the highest branch on the nearest tree. Quentin squealed in surprise, hazel eyes wide and wings fluttering in distress.
Huffing loudly, the stud shook his head and glared at the creature. “You little shit. Come down here and I'll fight you like a man.” Baring his teeth, the brute stomped a light colored hoof. “Oh yes, so big and bad. Fighting a little bird will really prove a point....” Grunting, Quentin realized just how true of a statement that was and sighed in defeat. He continued on, looking over his shoulder at the feathered beast one last time before sticking his tongue out in childish taunting before trotting back to the wall.
“It's those luscious locks. Not even the beasts can keep their...talons off you.” He grinned at the voice, now strutting as he moved on. He kept his attention on the ground, at once forgetting that he'd be snuck up on once before. The voices in his head didn't bother to warn him about his carelessness either, so on he went gathering random bits of glass. Sooner or later he'd get to work on his crafting abilities.
"Talk."
"Voices."
OOC - @Argen
(the fabulous!)
![[Image: 568b0cff16b64]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/568b0cff16b64)
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Non-lethal magic/force is allowed. Please ask if unsure :)
