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YOU'RE LIKE THE BURDEN WE BEAR, YOU'RE ALL THE HATE THAT WE SHARE He watches her into the water; he hadn't intended on joining her but, in a fit of chivalry, he can't help but worry that she might weaken whilst submerged. He cannot allow her to drown, so he steps into the water too until it laps against his underbelly. It is surprisingly cold, nipping at his flesh with all the aggression of a winter snowstorm, and he's reminded that it is not going to be summer for much longer. The blessed chill of autumn and winter beckon; his two favourite seasons. His muscles suppress a shiver at the coolness of the water, and he instead revels in the sensation against the tender skin of his groin and the insides of his legs. The sparse amount of blood from the mare's attacks washes off into the pool, revealing sliced flesh that stings and smarts as the water enters it. The beast chances a glance across to her, and sees her drinking her fill of the chilled pool. He does the same, slaking his thirst in several long gulps of fresh water. He is quite unsure of what to say, or whether he should even be speaking given her inability to. If he keeps talking at her, is it just a tactless reminder of what she cannot do? Again, he marvels at her ability to survive without that one very important ability. One thing has occured to him, though. Can he, in good conscience, leave her alone here? He is assuming she does not have a herd - he cannot smell one on her, and he's sure she would have indicated with body language if she had a home. "You shouldn't roam out here whilst you're injured, csendes madár," he rumbles. Without meaning to, Hungarian slips from his lips; he has a penchant for naming things in his alternative language, and quiet bird seems quite apt for this little thing. Having spent so much of his life as an outcast, Volterra knows that being badly injured is not a good thing. Without a herd to protect her whilst she heals, she could be predated or attacked by another of their kind. So, tentative, he speaks again. "I am a member of one of Helovia's herds, the Dragon's Throat. Would you...be interested in joining us, at least until you heal?" It is not an offer he expects her to accept, but he makes it anyway. |
csendes madár - quiet bird
@Ru
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
