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Kianzo
the prince of darkness is a perfect gentleman
“I agree, Si.”
The colt spun on heel, eyes widening and head flinging up, surprise and shock stealing away his exhaustion for a few moments as he searched for the source of the unexpected voice. Keusi, likewise, jumped up on her over-large paws, youthful jaw (that would one-day crush bone) snapping once as she started.
But the colt’s tired, startled eyes did not need to look far—the contemptuous voice came from a woman wreathed in the thickening mists. A small woman, but still larger than his coltish body. And age had burnished her elegant coat to a coppery gold, unlike the dark prince’s bright gilt. His wide, unblinking gaze began to narrow as her delicately sculpted head dipped towards his now silently snarling companion.
“Who are you?” His surprisingly deep and clear voice for one so young rang with command in response to her sincere smirk and vaguely ominous greeting. His black-rimmed ears tilted back, angular body that was just growing into awkwarditity shifting uneasily on his small, onyx hooves.
And then he snorted, lightly stamping a single foreleg as his bright blue glare boldly met her bright green—it leapt out of her copper face amongst the verdant bamboo around them. And, despite the colt’s dark proclivities and exhaustion, even he was not immune to beauty’s naturally soothing effect on youth. The effect (for better or for worse) fades with time; but the dark prince had not experienced that time, yet.
So, with a slight sigh and subtle relaxation of the tension her surprising appearance had caused, he glanced over her body, “I’m not lost. I’m going home, to the Basin.” Where other colts may have infused false bravado into such a claim, Kianzo said it firmly—as if he, himself, believed his delusion in his tired state. His glancing gaze halted, lingering on her hind left leg—were those scars? A small ear swiveled forward, eyes staring closely to try and discern the bright white hairs against the equally white fog. He couldn’t quite tell.
The colt spun on heel, eyes widening and head flinging up, surprise and shock stealing away his exhaustion for a few moments as he searched for the source of the unexpected voice. Keusi, likewise, jumped up on her over-large paws, youthful jaw (that would one-day crush bone) snapping once as she started.
But the colt’s tired, startled eyes did not need to look far—the contemptuous voice came from a woman wreathed in the thickening mists. A small woman, but still larger than his coltish body. And age had burnished her elegant coat to a coppery gold, unlike the dark prince’s bright gilt. His wide, unblinking gaze began to narrow as her delicately sculpted head dipped towards his now silently snarling companion.
“Who are you?” His surprisingly deep and clear voice for one so young rang with command in response to her sincere smirk and vaguely ominous greeting. His black-rimmed ears tilted back, angular body that was just growing into awkwarditity shifting uneasily on his small, onyx hooves.
And then he snorted, lightly stamping a single foreleg as his bright blue glare boldly met her bright green—it leapt out of her copper face amongst the verdant bamboo around them. And, despite the colt’s dark proclivities and exhaustion, even he was not immune to beauty’s naturally soothing effect on youth. The effect (for better or for worse) fades with time; but the dark prince had not experienced that time, yet.
So, with a slight sigh and subtle relaxation of the tension her surprising appearance had caused, he glanced over her body, “I’m not lost. I’m going home, to the Basin.” Where other colts may have infused false bravado into such a claim, Kianzo said it firmly—as if he, himself, believed his delusion in his tired state. His glancing gaze halted, lingering on her hind left leg—were those scars? A small ear swiveled forward, eyes staring closely to try and discern the bright white hairs against the equally white fog. He couldn’t quite tell.
@Bellisma
Please tag Kianzo in all replies.
