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12-26-2012, 06:40 PM
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Ebony cranium nods slowly to his words, eyes appraising. Movement doesn't turn his body, though Kaj hadn't expected it to. There is more to this acceptance than words. Letting in a complete stranger wouldn't be much good, and would show weakness in the stability of the herd. The fact that the silent ghost of a stallion isn't budging only serves to stoke the fire that burns inside Kaj, telling him that this is where he truly wanted to be. Knowing that if he desires to be a part of this, he has to show the shadowed stallion that he is deserving of it. As he comes to this decision the brute shifts to the side, and a dark substance leaks from his plume. Orbs that reflect the colors of the sky flick downwards, watching the strokes and twirls of his tail. It's as if shadows take form, move to his will, but somehow he knows that it's not true. What touches the ground is reminiscent of a liquid, though Kaj doesn't particularly know what it is as it splashes artfully over the grass. Taking form, moving to express thoughts, and it's then that Kaj realizes that the wraith cannot speak. Kaj is unbothered by this, finding it a rather amazing thing that despite all this he has persevered, found a way to translate what he is speaking. The image takes shape, and from the ink a lion stands- teeth bared and eyes proud and regal just as the animal it truly is. Endless black eyes turn upward, observing his reaction to this picture. It's then that Kaj understands. "In my old home, all males were protectors and all females wielders of magic. I am able to fight." Noriker blood is strong in him, building him up to a height of seventeen hands. Not a force to be reckoned with, and there's no doubt that Kaj knows how to handle his mass. The Akhal-Teke of his mother was what had given the length of his body so that he did not stand fully draft. The ink swarms, creating a different image. A sly dog, an informant. Amusement takes over his golden face, breaking through the passiveness it normally holds. Head shaking, frosty part of his mane moving away from his eyes. There's nothing left to say, he is not made for sleuthing. "I am too obvious in crowds, sir. Hiding is hard when appearing as I do." Even if he hadn't needed to say it, he feels as if it is respectful to Ink to do so. The shapes are changing again and again, showing different abilities that he can possibly have to give to the herd. Healing, Creating, Defending, Sneaking. Awkwardly shaking his head to healing. It wasn't his calling was all. When the image of creation passed his eyes golden head bobbed. "It's a possibility. Those two suit me best." In the end, should he be accepted of course, he would have to decide. That would be something to decide in the future. Talking is strange for him, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. With Ink being mute, it made him have to talk. When others questioned him verbally, shaking and nodding his head was much easier, but he knew that if he wanted to make an impression he couldn't seem completely aloof. |
