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05-26-2016, 10:55 PM
Tembovu & Mbwene
His great skull dipped once as recognition flashed across her youthful face with her comments about congratulating Tilney, “Indeed, you should,” he lowly murmured in agreement. But then his brows drew up as she further questioned him. Always, Tembovu could rely on Erthe to have questions. The pert, intelligent filly was forever seeking to know, understand, experience all that she could.
And the Elephant, if sometimes concerned for her safety (given the state of her legs), was glad for it. It had been a blessing, once stolen from him by flame, to see a child grow. And, after that day in the Threshold, he had been able to watch this young filly blossom into a pale pearl, opalescent in energy, excitement, and ability.
So, the King answered her questions as best as he could, “The tent will be a meeting place for the herd. Sheltered from wind and rain, it should be a useful meeting place. And a drawbridge is… it is a plank over water— or a moat at our boarders— that may be raised and lowered. The Edge’s borders need to be better protected, we’ve already had some intruders. Though, perhaps—“ he broke off thoughtfully for a moment, lips pursed, before continuing, “Do you remember the spikes you watched me craft so long ago? Perhaps those will span the Edge’s borders. And we will have a gate instead of a bridge.”
His explanation ended, and with it so did Mbwene’s attention. The calf wandered a short distance away (still in eyesight), trunk foraging through the new shrubs and old snow for snacks. Though her rummaging was halted as Tembovu fell instep with Erthe’s limping ones, following her into the forest. The calf squeaked in protest, before falling behind them in a trundling walk.
Though the King’s brows raised as more questions came from her soft foal-mouth. These were probing for knowledge— but personal knowledge, not information about the world or the Edge. His brow then knit, as his mind turned over the dark events that had occurred. What should he tell the filly? Did she need to know?
He shook his head— he wasn’t one to hide his shortcomings or faults. That wasn’t right or just. And hadn’t he, just moments before, stated he ’didn’t advocate keeping secrets’? He sighed to himself, before his muzzle parted and he abridged his failures, “I’ve followed my heart, my emotions, for a long time. Both in this life, and my life in Dorobo. And, as time has made things clearer, I realize that it often brings mistakes and darkness to me. In this darkness, I turned against Mauja and hurt him— which Alysanne, Evangeline, and Naerys witnessed…” he trailed off, maneuvering through trees on autopilot as his thoughts turned dark.
“But I have grown closer with Elsa, my Queen, because of it,” he didn’t mean to, but the possessive pronoun was endearingly said, “However, I still need to mend things with the others.” He finished quietly, Mbwene whining softly behind them as feelings of sadness and guilt billowed from the Elephant King.
And the Elephant, if sometimes concerned for her safety (given the state of her legs), was glad for it. It had been a blessing, once stolen from him by flame, to see a child grow. And, after that day in the Threshold, he had been able to watch this young filly blossom into a pale pearl, opalescent in energy, excitement, and ability.
So, the King answered her questions as best as he could, “The tent will be a meeting place for the herd. Sheltered from wind and rain, it should be a useful meeting place. And a drawbridge is… it is a plank over water— or a moat at our boarders— that may be raised and lowered. The Edge’s borders need to be better protected, we’ve already had some intruders. Though, perhaps—“ he broke off thoughtfully for a moment, lips pursed, before continuing, “Do you remember the spikes you watched me craft so long ago? Perhaps those will span the Edge’s borders. And we will have a gate instead of a bridge.”
His explanation ended, and with it so did Mbwene’s attention. The calf wandered a short distance away (still in eyesight), trunk foraging through the new shrubs and old snow for snacks. Though her rummaging was halted as Tembovu fell instep with Erthe’s limping ones, following her into the forest. The calf squeaked in protest, before falling behind them in a trundling walk.
Though the King’s brows raised as more questions came from her soft foal-mouth. These were probing for knowledge— but personal knowledge, not information about the world or the Edge. His brow then knit, as his mind turned over the dark events that had occurred. What should he tell the filly? Did she need to know?
He shook his head— he wasn’t one to hide his shortcomings or faults. That wasn’t right or just. And hadn’t he, just moments before, stated he ’didn’t advocate keeping secrets’? He sighed to himself, before his muzzle parted and he abridged his failures, “I’ve followed my heart, my emotions, for a long time. Both in this life, and my life in Dorobo. And, as time has made things clearer, I realize that it often brings mistakes and darkness to me. In this darkness, I turned against Mauja and hurt him— which Alysanne, Evangeline, and Naerys witnessed…” he trailed off, maneuvering through trees on autopilot as his thoughts turned dark.
“But I have grown closer with Elsa, my Queen, because of it,” he didn’t mean to, but the possessive pronoun was endearingly said, “However, I still need to mend things with the others.” He finished quietly, Mbwene whining softly behind them as feelings of sadness and guilt billowed from the Elephant King.
@Erthë Since the moat is no longer happening, I brought up the spikes/gate!
Please tag Tembovu.
