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don't get lost in my lyrics you won't find your way out He stood upright, a fearsome creature he, and on her withers little Sorcha buried her red-splashed face into Aisling’s mane. The mare sent a wash of comfort through there bond and whispered with her mind “There now, a stór, I will not let him harm you.” and trusting in the truth of that, Sorcha’s shivers quieted though she remained nestled in. Aisling, in her guise, only watched the beast take a survey of the creature he saw before him. She smirked then, and it showed on the face or Ptolema, for she though there might be something appreciative in his glance. Sorry to disappoint you, dear. A herd worth fighting for, he said, and Aisling had already found hers. She considered him carefully, trying to evaluate the stallion before her. Like the did in her youth, images of storied and songs strange to her mind, fitting him into archetypes (possibly the villain, a wicked general exiled for horrible crimes, maybe a black knight hiding bravery and goodness under a dark and brooding exterior). Unlike her youth, Aisling did not let these fanciful ideas rule her, bit instead tried to make a careful determination of his potential for a new member of the Aurora Basin. He could be dangerous, she decided, but would it be better to have that danger on their side. ”Hmmm… ‘Who’ indeed…” she mused cryptically when her asked her name and said no more about that. “I have a herd, and I fight for it with what talents I possess. I don’t know what your criteria for ‘worth’ might be, but the Aurora Basin is my home, and I find it worthy above all else. We live to the north of here, tucked into the mountains.” She tossed her head over her shoulder to indicate the direction she had come from. “It’s a harsh place to live at times, and the cold will soon be on us, but you don’t look much like a delicate flower. Our Lord, The Reaper, always has a use for warriors and perhaps you might fit that bill.” She moved, the vision of her bulky figure moving in an arc toward his front as she kept a stern looking grey gaze on his eerie yellow eyes. “Ausar…” The tested the name on her lips, the mischievous smile that was all Aisling peeking into the large mare’s face. “What is it that you’re worth?” |
@Ausar Sorry should have asked, do you want to be tagged?
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
