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Rikyn
I don’t like that Sikeax is having a rough time of things, my expression softening, hooves angling me towards her, though she turns away. I will never understand women, how they allude to their hollows, and then swiftly hide them, as if one should go burrowing beneath all those layers to try and find the hole again. The worst part was when you found the hole, but fell into it, rather than safely inspecting it…
So I take my time, thinking about my next words carefully, because there is a god damned emotional pitfall around here somewhere, and it’s not going to get me. Good luck, smugly remarks Duir, having seen enough of my verbal game to be highly dubious of this moment having any outcome other than it degrading into a shouting match, or worse. Even with my memories of her being pleasant, my buck is almost sure that any person can only spend so much time with me, before they’ve had enough, and begin to shout insults, rather than sense. "Has something happened to the Throat?" I ask, because of all the things in Helovia, I don’t know much about the south. It’s the land of my sister, and her father, the Sun, and sat at the foot of the realm where I’d almost died for the very first time; though I pretend like I avoid it for hate of the heat, there are much deeper, psychological reasons I’d rather not get caught out in the sand. Blissfully ignorant, most days, but, today, I regret my lack of information about the place. Snorting, then, when she tells me to not insult her horrid rat of a companion, I feel my lips smirk up as she simultaneously claims him unchanged. My kind friend has little capacity for punishing that which deserves it, I am learning, over time, and I wonder why it is that fate had been so cruel to her, and so kind to me; despite our differences, Duir is very important to me. His company, and noble perspective, while aggravating beyond all measure on many days, also has its moments of salvation – such as now. Don’t be a dick, he tells me, quite flatly, having noticed a bit more about the morose desert mare than I have, namely that she seems to withdraw into herself after she speaks. Looking at her now, really looking at her, I can see it, but I’d certainly not have if not for my cerndyr’s compassionate heart, and interference. Though I’m still a bit too much of an asshole for my own good, what comes out of my mouth is certainly better than what would have, had he not jumped in. "He is unkind to you," I tell her, instead of retorting with “things are hard to train, after all,” (as I had initially plotted), "your bonded or not, you hurt my friends, and we have issues. If you wish me to be kinder to the cretin, gain rule over him, or I’ll call the beast what I want."  |
@Sikeax
