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06-19-2016, 01:51 PM
only the dead have seen the end of war
The King chose to ignore the petulant roll of eyes that accompanied her answer to his questions. Her lesson was coming soon, so there was no need to waste his breath now. But her answer—it surprised him. She wanted gold because it meant power? Navy eyes darken on her own, gilded gaze. “There was so much more to power than gold,” he wants to saw, “there is weight, responsibility, triumph and tragedy. Power is more than having others listen to whatever ‘stuff’ you wish to be heard. It is saying things that need to be said when you don’t want to say them.”
But it is clear, by the equal parts sass and huffiness exemplified by the little mare, that his words will fall on deaf ears. Or, at least, ears too full of her own ‘knowledge’ and needs to have room for any of the Elephant King’s words or lectures. So, instead, he watches the stubborn set of her jaw just as she disappears behind a tree trunk. So tiny is she that it swallows her dark body whole, entirely hiding her from his view. He sighs, internally preparing himself to use his strength, but not all of his strength. She is so young, just barely more than a filly. This little girl did not need to feel the full wrath of an Elephant King. She needed only a lesson, not permanent maiming.
Weighing his bulk against her slender agility, along with her disappearing from sight, allows her a small amount of surprise in her attack. Though it is ruined by her tiny, high pitched, nearly endearing warcry squeal. Her charge is aimed at his side, her gleaming and sharp golden spikes going for the tender flesh beneath his barrel.
With his mind swamped by the thoughts of how to teach her a lesson in battle without killing her, he momentarily forgets about the trees he has closely arranged his haunches near. So, with a belated warning from Mbwene, his dock and haunches painfully smash into the rough, thick trunks behind him. A grunted curse passes out of his lips as the waspish dart of adolescent angst charges nearer.
His miscalculation of the Edge’s dense trunks allows the small mare to dart partway beneath the left side of his barrel. A few of her neck-thorns slice thin, shallow ribbons of red through the ivory skin there. But the Elephant, for all his heavy bulk, jerks his forehand up, up, up. Haunches strain, though they are bolstered and supported by the trunks that had just trapped him. And he is towering above the midget, gold-dusted crow beneath him.
A grunt against the welling red sting escapes his nostrils, but he sweeps the thoughts of the shallow pain aside. He does not want to skewer his barrel on her spikes, nor does he wish to land the full weight of his hooves upon her back. So, somewhat awkwardly, he twists his weight to his left before he starts coming back down to earth. His right forelimb swings heavily through the air, massive ivory hoof aiming to firmly knock the little nuisances aside and out from under him.
Bustling mind reaches out to Mbwene, telling her to wait. He promises her she can fight in this fight, but not yet. This appeases the small pachyderm, and her enraged, ear-piercing trumpets abate.
A: 1/4
WC: 564/800
Damages: Thin, shallow cuts on left barrel;
Summary: Tembo rears up when she comes towards him, and then tries to kick her with his right fore hoof. @Ovidius
But it is clear, by the equal parts sass and huffiness exemplified by the little mare, that his words will fall on deaf ears. Or, at least, ears too full of her own ‘knowledge’ and needs to have room for any of the Elephant King’s words or lectures. So, instead, he watches the stubborn set of her jaw just as she disappears behind a tree trunk. So tiny is she that it swallows her dark body whole, entirely hiding her from his view. He sighs, internally preparing himself to use his strength, but not all of his strength. She is so young, just barely more than a filly. This little girl did not need to feel the full wrath of an Elephant King. She needed only a lesson, not permanent maiming.
Weighing his bulk against her slender agility, along with her disappearing from sight, allows her a small amount of surprise in her attack. Though it is ruined by her tiny, high pitched, nearly endearing war
With his mind swamped by the thoughts of how to teach her a lesson in battle without killing her, he momentarily forgets about the trees he has closely arranged his haunches near. So, with a belated warning from Mbwene, his dock and haunches painfully smash into the rough, thick trunks behind him. A grunted curse passes out of his lips as the waspish dart of adolescent angst charges nearer.
His miscalculation of the Edge’s dense trunks allows the small mare to dart partway beneath the left side of his barrel. A few of her neck-thorns slice thin, shallow ribbons of red through the ivory skin there. But the Elephant, for all his heavy bulk, jerks his forehand up, up, up. Haunches strain, though they are bolstered and supported by the trunks that had just trapped him. And he is towering above the midget, gold-dusted crow beneath him.
A grunt against the welling red sting escapes his nostrils, but he sweeps the thoughts of the shallow pain aside. He does not want to skewer his barrel on her spikes, nor does he wish to land the full weight of his hooves upon her back. So, somewhat awkwardly, he twists his weight to his left before he starts coming back down to earth. His right forelimb swings heavily through the air, massive ivory hoof aiming to firmly knock the little nuisances aside and out from under him.
Bustling mind reaches out to Mbwene, telling her to wait. He promises her she can fight in this fight, but not yet. This appeases the small pachyderm, and her enraged, ear-piercing trumpets abate.
A: 1/4
WC: 564/800
Damages: Thin, shallow cuts on left barrel;
Summary: Tembo rears up when she comes towards him, and then tries to kick her with his right fore hoof. @Ovidius
Tembovu
the elephant king
Please tag Tembovu.
