03-19-2013, 12:36 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-19-2013, 12:42 AM by Ailith.)
No matter what we breed, we are still made of greed
This is my kindom come, this is my kindom come
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She watched him move, a mere shadowed vision of war-beaten wreckage, and it made her heart ache watching as he went. Next to the misted falls, she was his bird, tilting lightly in his trail as if the slight swaying of the breeze would hide her eager footsteps. Curiosity overwhelmed the mare as she watched the soft spray cleanse the days of battle from his coat and it was all she could do to keep herself from moving forth to touch his wounds. She too suffered from the warlord’s assaults but her wounds were little in comparison which made this warrior something of a commodity in her eyes. The rarity of her lavender gaze never left him as he moved once more from the water’s edge and into the forest. Above them the songs of summer strung out half-heartedly in a dissonant tune. Part of her wondered if the music had died away with the heart of the Foothills after such a battle but then of course she had only now begun to pay attention to the magic of its harmony.
Again, she followed diligently as he sought the shelter of a tall oak whose eyes peered down at them both with an ageless wonder. The stale fragrance of a summer rain made her skin crawl with excitement as storms were something of an infatuation to her. She quite enjoyed the soft pitter patter of a passing shower upon the faceless leaves above. It was like another song that came with living within the dunes, one that made her heart race in remembrance of all that had happened. However, in her time spent dwelling upon such trivial obsessions, she had barely the mind to catch the warrior’s words upon the growing winds. Something about them put her at ease and she finally moved forward from her shadowed position amongst the trees.
Her eyes were soft as she moved toward the stallion, who was still seemingly enamored by the lengthy truck of his oak. She debated what to say before smiling quietly at him because there wasn’t anything that needed to be said just yet. However, a soft murmuring passed her lips as she drew closer still, forgetting all sense of mannerism that had formerly inhabited her. When she had finally paused before him, she nodded towards the wounded shoulder in which he seemed to favor. “Are you alright?” With wide eyes she assessed the open wound and then stepped forward to extend a curious touch. The scent of dried dirt and blood seemed to overcome any other musky scent of the wood and when she thought it best to pull away, she proffered another soft smile. “I’m Ailith, of the Grey now I suppose. And who might you be?”
Whatever had come over her was something that took her actions by storm. There was no stopping her now, not when she so fervently put her mind to something.
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OOC|| Haha, I was laughing to myself when he called the tree rude. <3 Poor Chern x Murdock, it makes me sad.
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