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11-02-2016, 03:57 PM
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mathèo
I had a dream about a burning house. You were stuck inside, I couldn't get you out
I lay beside you and pulled you close. And the two of us went up in smoke Young Thèo hadn't actually had the opportunity to speak with the Diviner yet. Despite his early inclinings towards the role of Diviner (far, far in the future), life and circumstance had kept him away from the halo'd mare far longer than he would have liked. It seemed that every time he had a spare moment within which he might have approached her, something (or something) always stole away his time and his attention. Today however, all that would change. What felt like the last warm breeze of Orangemoon gently pulled back the boy's mane, revealing a pair of bright and inquisitive green eyes. Delicately Thèo wandered over the sands, moving determinedly towards where Maren had been working for the past few seasons. He vowed that today, no matter who or what tried to stop him, he would not be deterred. Today he could find the diviner. As it turned out, nothing tried to interfere with his plans, and he made his way to the church with easy. Sunlight drenched his youthful frame as it always did; a constant pillar of light that followed him around regardless of the clouds overhead. Was it a sign that Gaucho was watching him? Had their fiery deity and the boy's grandfather, the Sun God, allowed the Wildfire this column of light with which to oversee his son's actions ? Thèo, who possessed not one prideful or boastful bone in his body would never admit so outloud, but secretly he hoped that was what the light implied. As he neared Maren, he slowed his pace slightly to a more respectful gait, so that he would not rush up upon her. She did not strike him as the type of mare who liked to be rushed up upon. "It is remarkable." Thèo commented. For one who had grown up in the Throat, his accent was unlike anyone in particular. Perhaps that was because he had been raised by so many members of the herd, that he had picked up their individual traits and mashed it together. Yet he sounded almost italian as he spoke, softening his t's to d's, and the like. For a moment, the boy's stare was entirely upon the masterpiece that Maren had (very nearly) singlehandedly built herself. His eyes took in every curve, every joint, every decorative component. An unknowing smile had pushed its way onto his lips as he inspected her creation, which only grew as he finally turned to look at her. His smile was boyish and innocent, his gaze full of laughter and curiosity. "We haven't been properly introduced-" The sun-child began. "Of course I know who you are." He nearly gushed, that smile pushing his cheeks outwards almost comically as he beamed up at her. "I am Mathèo. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." |
