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Oh, bloody hell.
A moment ago, the prince had been standing by a crooked tree, alone, considering the prospect of using it for shelter. It was getting dark, and he didn't have anywhere better to be at the moment, and so he thought to pause his wanderings before he lost the sun entirely. It was Frostfall now, and cold, and a frigid night spent flying back to the Dragon's Throat did not particularly appeal to him. Yes, this tree would do quite nicely - it would block the wind, if he stood a certain way, and if he turned his hips just so --
WHUMP.
It knocked the wind out of him, whatever it was, leaving him breathless and unable to utter the volley of curses that sprang to mind. It also happened to give Zarina time to send him thoughts and emotions, communicating in a split second what it would have taken another equine several minutes to convey. --Rue. Daughter. Yours.-- The words were accompanied by images of his laughing with a young filly, searching for her when she got lost, watching over her while she slept...
And though he didn't remember the girl, he felt a familiar, paternal warmth bud in his breast, and he immediately decided that he would, at least, not ruin her life, too. So if he was a father, and this was his daughter, well... he would give it his best, at the very least.
And what exactly was she doing all the way out here?!
In any case, by the time he regained his breath, laughing and coughing and sputtering to help his lungs catch up with the rest of him, he had gathered his thoughts quite nicely and felt rather prepared to tackle the problem in front of him.
Not, by the way, that she was much of a problem. She wound around him like a cat, rubbing her little body against any part of him that she could reach. He chuckled, something akin to fondness warming his heart (but wait, that can't be right, how can he feel this if he doesn't remember her?), and spread his wings to halt her movement. "Rue," he greeted her, silently thanking his bonded for supplying her name (gods, he was a terrible father).
"Are you all right, princess?" he asked, eying her carefully. She didn't look injured. "It's okay, it's okay... all that matters is that you're safe now." Strangely enough, he meant it. That feeling was there again, the guilt and the worry and the relief that she was okay, and it was giving him a headache, trying to figure it all out.
"more words."
A moment ago, the prince had been standing by a crooked tree, alone, considering the prospect of using it for shelter. It was getting dark, and he didn't have anywhere better to be at the moment, and so he thought to pause his wanderings before he lost the sun entirely. It was Frostfall now, and cold, and a frigid night spent flying back to the Dragon's Throat did not particularly appeal to him. Yes, this tree would do quite nicely - it would block the wind, if he stood a certain way, and if he turned his hips just so --
WHUMP.
It knocked the wind out of him, whatever it was, leaving him breathless and unable to utter the volley of curses that sprang to mind. It also happened to give Zarina time to send him thoughts and emotions, communicating in a split second what it would have taken another equine several minutes to convey. --Rue. Daughter. Yours.-- The words were accompanied by images of his laughing with a young filly, searching for her when she got lost, watching over her while she slept...
And though he didn't remember the girl, he felt a familiar, paternal warmth bud in his breast, and he immediately decided that he would, at least, not ruin her life, too. So if he was a father, and this was his daughter, well... he would give it his best, at the very least.
And what exactly was she doing all the way out here?!
In any case, by the time he regained his breath, laughing and coughing and sputtering to help his lungs catch up with the rest of him, he had gathered his thoughts quite nicely and felt rather prepared to tackle the problem in front of him.
Not, by the way, that she was much of a problem. She wound around him like a cat, rubbing her little body against any part of him that she could reach. He chuckled, something akin to fondness warming his heart (but wait, that can't be right, how can he feel this if he doesn't remember her?), and spread his wings to halt her movement. "Rue," he greeted her, silently thanking his bonded for supplying her name (gods, he was a terrible father).
"Are you all right, princess?" he asked, eying her carefully. She didn't look injured. "It's okay, it's okay... all that matters is that you're safe now." Strangely enough, he meant it. That feeling was there again, the guilt and the worry and the relief that she was okay, and it was giving him a headache, trying to figure it all out.
"more words."
Quilyan
counting on the night for a beautiful day;
subtlepatterns.com | kaydeniro & larfsalot @ deviantart
@Rue
Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
