.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
05-11-2016, 08:56 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-11-2016, 08:57 AM by Seanan.
Edit Reason: I forget to tag >.>
)
The white stallion minces. That's the only word for the way he brings his hooves in tight together and moves from hoof to hoof almost in place and yet gradually the movements take him a little farther from the heavier stallion. His eyes flick towards the black horns more often than they dwell on the stranger's face. The horned kind were not unknown to him though he'd had little interaction with them.
His awkwardness grows with each of the unicorn's words, head dropping and ears splaying out oddly to the sides as he watches the elder. Though his ungainliness is impossible to really hide he seems to shrink in a bit on himself. He can see the age now that he's looking. This is an elder and even well into adulthood he has not lost the awe of age that was much impressed upon him in his youth.
"No, elder, never." His voice remains soft. It's a little too high in pitch for his size, as if it doesn't really suit the stallion properly. "The ice-sand plays tricks on the eyes, and I had forgotten how well the world can hide things when it is feeling playful."
Though his words are a bit meandering, the stallion looks contrite, a well-chided colt. He watches though, more than a child would. His rosy eyes watch through the fog of his breath, reading the play of muscles beneath the elder's coat and seeing the light shine dully from his horns. There is height there too, he sees. Taller even then himself which is unusual. As tall as he and heavier built, this is not a stallion Seanan wants to fight. Not just because he sees himself outmatched, either.
His hide twitches, shivering a little though he can barely feel the cold over the heat of his own blood. Soon that will fade as he stands here in the chill. For now he is warm though, and that's all that really matters.
@Albrecht
His awkwardness grows with each of the unicorn's words, head dropping and ears splaying out oddly to the sides as he watches the elder. Though his ungainliness is impossible to really hide he seems to shrink in a bit on himself. He can see the age now that he's looking. This is an elder and even well into adulthood he has not lost the awe of age that was much impressed upon him in his youth.
"No, elder, never." His voice remains soft. It's a little too high in pitch for his size, as if it doesn't really suit the stallion properly. "The ice-sand plays tricks on the eyes, and I had forgotten how well the world can hide things when it is feeling playful."
Though his words are a bit meandering, the stallion looks contrite, a well-chided colt. He watches though, more than a child would. His rosy eyes watch through the fog of his breath, reading the play of muscles beneath the elder's coat and seeing the light shine dully from his horns. There is height there too, he sees. Taller even then himself which is unusual. As tall as he and heavier built, this is not a stallion Seanan wants to fight. Not just because he sees himself outmatched, either.
His hide twitches, shivering a little though he can barely feel the cold over the heat of his own blood. Soon that will fade as he stands here in the chill. For now he is warm though, and that's all that really matters.
@Albrecht
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.
