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The dark stag turned his head from his new friend next to him, though the warmth of the small creature was ever so comforting. He could feel the shifting thoughts of the gold thoughts. How harsh and unfair they were growing. Yet Haldir dared not speak what he truly thought. That the dream, the nightmare, had continued had nothing to do with her. His tongue held, bitterly, from even mentioning its true possible cause. Though it should have been clear….perhaps that is what set the gold so on edge.
His mind still spun in place, confusing one for another. Still set that she had somehow caused the nightmare to extend. That it had been her fault, but that lie was getting harder to hold on to, and her silence on the matter stung him. The gold still hadn’t realized exactly how intense the nightmare’s terror had gripped him. He was oblivious to the moss rubbed into his white mane, nor the dirt and dark green staining his horns, or even the scrapes upon the ground. That he had even let slip her name was still unknown. If he had…
She hides her face, tucking it, and he watches her with intensity, following her eyes to the scares upon the soft moss bed. Gold harks flick back confused. Who were those from? Haldir’s silence broke. ’You’ The gold looks away, his gut twisting, his fog lifting, but protesting to do so. Haldir lets a few images slip of the gold only moments before, careful not to let the name go with it. The heart of the gold finally quickens. The fear (dare we call it embarrassment) quickening the beat of his heart. The shield that was his golden coat was being pulled back on, terrified that some of the scars the crisscrossed his body had been revealed, especially those upon his chest. He so rarely let it slip so fully off…so careful to keep the collar pulled high, and belt tight. Yet it had slipped from his shoulder, carelessly fallen to the floor. And so she had seen the tender flesh of his true self, and he resented her for it.
The soft gentle voice whispers into his ears again and he looks back, his eyes still hard and cold. He sees her faltering back, her strong concern, which at first had been solid and unwavering, falters. She hesitates, she falls, and it solidifies her guilt to whatever twisted crime the golden charged her with. Yet for all his rising barriers his gut clinches to hear such brokenness in her voice. Head turns back to look down upon the ground. Some unbidden reaction speaking to the ghost of humanity lingering in the dark shadows within him.
So as her muzzle reaches over and brushes his shoulder his coat flicks in shock. Head jerking back to her and shoulder pulling away. So rarely did the world reach out to touch him in some gentle…comfort. It felt foreign, but as soon as his body shifted from her, some dark mood presses of regret. Perhaps he was rising in anger, frustration, and confusion, but she laid beside him so selflessly, so wounded by his accusations, defeated without even a protest. Yet he had pulled away. Reminded so recently of the heart he had once held, he felt some of its ghostly pangs, pointing to a truth he dared not breathe. That he wanted needed what she offered in that touch.
Worried about him. Harks fall back. She worried…. More dark clouds and venom seep into his skin. Snorting, he shares his head, trying to clear it, but all that came though, though wrong it was stoked into his mind by fire of fear burning in his chest was a terrifying phrase, ’She knows.’. Golden limbs strike out and the gold mass lifts, rising from her side and shrinking away. Space. He needed space. Yet now is the returning golden thief. She had missed it, desired to see it return back to its norm. She might soon regret that. He keep his eyes locked hard upon hers, but they are unforgiving. All surrender had left his worn shoulders, all openness closed in his eyes. All left was a proud golden thief, denying any blemish on his coat. Daring her to speak of any scar she saw upon his body beneath the gold spun lies. There was a price for honesty and truth with the gold, and now she was to pay it. “You shouldn’t.” It spat, bitter, sounding like anger, but it was nothing more than a falsified front meant to cover the obvious looks of a cornered wounded predator.
It was harsh, it was unfair, and it was all in pure defense. All to keep her away, to give space, and to shove her from any possible idea she had of mentioning those things which had caused her worries. She wanted the Laurelin, the Golden Thief, she was getting it.
OOC:: Hawk's message to Rexanna:: "PUSH ALL THE BUTTONS REX. PUSH THEM"
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