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02-22-2016, 01:19 AM
tembovu
Those who stand for nothing fall for anything.
His eyes and attention, so wholly focused on Mauja and the Lady Moon, was surprised at the sudden influx of coolness at his side. Gaze turned away from the huffing of the moody Goddess and sudden thickening of mists, eyes falling upon the familiar yet ever-changing form of Erthe pressing into his side. The filly was becoming a woman, in the ungainly stages of a yearling’s rounded barrel and lanky legs.
But she was still his little Erthe. So his head dropped and wrapped around the cool, pearly skin, lips gently tugging her curly forelock that used to be foal-fuzz. “Erthe,” was his quiet rumble of greeting, “You’ve come to see your Lady?” Indeed, the yearling seemed quite smitten by the Edge’s patron goddess.
Attention shifted back to the wall of mist— though the Goddess has made it so dense that it obscures both the sights and sounds occurring between her and Mauja. He resettles his weight uneasily, not liking that he can only hear vague mumbles: the husky murmur of the Moon and lower hum of Mauja.
But there is no obvious sounds of distress, so he waits outside of the mists rather than (trying) to press in and interrupt. Though he was King, he knew that the Goddess did not hold much weight in such a title— how easily she had stripped Torliek of his armor for his transgressions against her? The Elephant thought it wise to respect the temperamental prowess of the Goddess. There was no danger here— at least none that his mere mortal mind could ascertain.
So, silently, he waited for the mist wall to fall and reveal the reason the Moon had summoned her old King.
But she was still his little Erthe. So his head dropped and wrapped around the cool, pearly skin, lips gently tugging her curly forelock that used to be foal-fuzz. “Erthe,” was his quiet rumble of greeting, “You’ve come to see your Lady?” Indeed, the yearling seemed quite smitten by the Edge’s patron goddess.
Attention shifted back to the wall of mist— though the Goddess has made it so dense that it obscures both the sights and sounds occurring between her and Mauja. He resettles his weight uneasily, not liking that he can only hear vague mumbles: the husky murmur of the Moon and lower hum of Mauja.
But there is no obvious sounds of distress, so he waits outside of the mists rather than (trying) to press in and interrupt. Though he was King, he knew that the Goddess did not hold much weight in such a title— how easily she had stripped Torliek of his armor for his transgressions against her? The Elephant thought it wise to respect the temperamental prowess of the Goddess. There was no danger here— at least none that his mere mortal mind could ascertain.
So, silently, he waited for the mist wall to fall and reveal the reason the Moon had summoned her old King.
@Erthë
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