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Rikyn
"Sia," I answer as I turn, the feminine voice which greets me rising from the memories lying in the warm shallows of youth. Duir lifts his ears to catch the sound, eyes nervously following the turn of my own from where he stands by my flank, on the side opposite to her approach. The blue dipped mare is a familiar sight, a good one, and I greet her with a signature smile of greeting: welcoming, vibrant, and swift. My buck enjoys these meetings, with those who inspire such good sensations in my heart, rather than jealous or hateful tightening. They seem to be few and far between, and mostly female, however. As the memories of the champagne woman trickle in, he observes with interest, particularly the image of two children, far too small to be wandering, on the borders of a vast, desert realm, viewed through the eyes of none other than yours truly. Though she exists in other places in my mind, the most poignant memory of her is the faint smile of knowing, while she had let a little boy and his dearest loves dream of being more than children; that playful, patient kindness becomes who Sikeax is, to my nearly grown fawn, his forest eyes seeing her with a familiarity now that had been absent on her first approach. Peering around my chest, he smells hesitantly at the air between she, and I. "I’ve been well enough," I answer, not yet aware of the tidings this holiday season truly means to bring me, "and how do you fare?" Looking about for her absent brat, and finding the shape-shifter about no where, an ear flicks back, golden gaze seeking him out, and finding him making his way to the tree. The last I’d met with Sia, that cretin had earned my contempt, and she had earned the smallest bit of condemnation from me, for not keeping her companion under control. Duir’s quick snort, however, as he retracts his gaze back behind my shoulder, to continue watching the tree (and eavesdropping on my thoughts), speaks volumes of how little I can talk of controlling one’s bonded. "I hope also you’ve had better luck with that thing," I say, not particularly ashamed of my dislike of the creature, and unwilling to withhold my opinions for Sikeax’s sake. Besides, if someone doesn’t tell her he’s awful, who will? [ OOC: Set as Helovia gathers about the Giving Tree, after Magic Day, for those interested! I'M AN IDIOT AND NEVER TAGGED YOU ]  |
@Sikeax
