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03-02-2016, 12:36 AM
Tembovu & Mbwene
Mbwene’s eyes rounded wide as the furry, blue-tailed, winged, lion thing suddenly came bolting towards her. Perhaps trumpeting at dangerous things was not the best way to go about life, she was quickly learning. Giving a high-pitched trumpet of dismay, she began scrambling backwards, away from the grey and blue blur of excitement and terror. Though she wanted to put some distance between her and the white-maned creature, she wasn’t willing to turn her back on it.
Tasseled tail and wrinkled haunches slammed with stumbling force against Tembovu’s forelimbs— and he just barely managed to discard the grimace that still barely creased his navy eyes. Eyes that glanced down to Mbwene, then watched the oncoming manticore, then finally returned to the electric blue pupils of the demo-goddess as she was shouting about the harmlessness of a winged, horned lion with a stinger for a tail. A brow raised in mild disbelief, though it seemed that the other companion harbored only exuberance and no ill-will.
So he dropped his great head, pale muzzle nudging the wary Mbwene forward as the stout, young woman murmured quietly to herself. Though he still nodded slightly as if to affirm that he did, in fact, become King.
Mbwene was less convinced than her bonded, but still began to move her stumpy legs in small steps towards the winged lion (as if the other lion wasn’t bad enough with trying to eat her, this one had wings and horns). A quiet, demure squeak of greeting vibrated out of her trunk as it raised up and out towards it. Large ears flap once in a half-hearted greeting as eyes warily watch the tail that ended in a stinger. But, still, she was there, greeting like a good little elephant.
The Elephant King, however, was not being as cordial— his ears snapped flush with his skull at the hostile words that whipped from the visitor’s mouth. Though, in both regard for Mauja’s friend and understanding of what had last transpired when they were near each other, he held back the reprimand that formed on his tongue. Instead, studied the shorter mare with a flinty, cobalt stare.
Black-rimmed ears swing forward as her apologies come on sighs and with rolling shoulders. A simple nod was given in acceptance, “I still don’t know your name?” was the only, gentle reprimand that rumbled from his barrel.
His great skull cocked slightly as she asked after his old Specter, of all equines. “Ophelia no longer resides within the Edge. She followed Torliek out into the wilds or another herd. I am not certain where she is now,” while the Elephant King normally would offer further help, he waited until he knew the mare’s name before offering Edge resources to a mare that snapped at a King. He glanced at Lyanna, wondering if he should send for her to fetch Mauja.
Mbwene, however, was becoming much more enthralled with the fellow companion by the minute. His mane looked so soft, her slender trunk needed to investigate it. So out it reached, tip grasping for the fuzzy fluff.
Tasseled tail and wrinkled haunches slammed with stumbling force against Tembovu’s forelimbs— and he just barely managed to discard the grimace that still barely creased his navy eyes. Eyes that glanced down to Mbwene, then watched the oncoming manticore, then finally returned to the electric blue pupils of the demo-goddess as she was shouting about the harmlessness of a winged, horned lion with a stinger for a tail. A brow raised in mild disbelief, though it seemed that the other companion harbored only exuberance and no ill-will.
So he dropped his great head, pale muzzle nudging the wary Mbwene forward as the stout, young woman murmured quietly to herself. Though he still nodded slightly as if to affirm that he did, in fact, become King.
Mbwene was less convinced than her bonded, but still began to move her stumpy legs in small steps towards the winged lion (as if the other lion wasn’t bad enough with trying to eat her, this one had wings and horns). A quiet, demure squeak of greeting vibrated out of her trunk as it raised up and out towards it. Large ears flap once in a half-hearted greeting as eyes warily watch the tail that ended in a stinger. But, still, she was there, greeting like a good little elephant.
The Elephant King, however, was not being as cordial— his ears snapped flush with his skull at the hostile words that whipped from the visitor’s mouth. Though, in both regard for Mauja’s friend and understanding of what had last transpired when they were near each other, he held back the reprimand that formed on his tongue. Instead, studied the shorter mare with a flinty, cobalt stare.
Black-rimmed ears swing forward as her apologies come on sighs and with rolling shoulders. A simple nod was given in acceptance, “I still don’t know your name?” was the only, gentle reprimand that rumbled from his barrel.
His great skull cocked slightly as she asked after his old Specter, of all equines. “Ophelia no longer resides within the Edge. She followed Torliek out into the wilds or another herd. I am not certain where she is now,” while the Elephant King normally would offer further help, he waited until he knew the mare’s name before offering Edge resources to a mare that snapped at a King. He glanced at Lyanna, wondering if he should send for her to fetch Mauja.
Mbwene, however, was becoming much more enthralled with the fellow companion by the minute. His mane looked so soft, her slender trunk needed to investigate it. So out it reached, tip grasping for the fuzzy fluff.
@Roskuld
Please tag Tembovu.
