| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
With the threat of the unfamiliar youth out of his face, Murdock relaxed back into the wind. The air had an icy chill to it and the sky was dark and threatening, but despite the poor weather that had dampened his mood, his spirits had been raised once more by Chernobyl's presence. They still had not been exploring together as he had promised on their first meeting, but that would happen eventually. For the moment, he was content with simple conversation and catching up. He couldn't say he had many friends, but he certainly considered her to be the closest to him of any he had met; she was simply special.
He had missed his adventures north to the Steppe, always trusting that he would find her or at least some sign of her presence. However, the Basin's proximity to the snowy plains was far too large a threat for him to risk on a regular basis, and so he had to satisfy himself with a memory. As he was now an Executioner of the Foothills, he also had duties to see to that placed certain restrictions upon him. He enjoyed the distraction of assignments, though part of him missed the freedom of being on his own, with no ties to bind you down.
He returned her playful nudge, pushing the dark velvet of his muzzle into the point of her shoulder lightly. He was comfortable around her; comfortable enough to be himself without worrying about what she would think. It was liberating in a way to feel so accepted, though, all things considered, she should be the last one to accept him for who he was born to be. It was unfortunate that they were separated by the Basin's views on other races, but in a way Murdock didn't mind. It filled him with a sense of childish excitement, as he felt they were doing something they weren't allow to do; like the way he had felt when playing on the edges of the cliffs when his mother wasn't watching.
He ducked his head out of the wind, turning his face toward her slightly and side stepping closer to her body. Faint warmth radiated from her skin, and he leaned into it slightly. The wind had shifted in such a way that thick snowflakes were driven directly toward his face, catching in his forelock and settling atop his poll. Carefully he lifted a wing, feeling the pull of the half-healed wound on his shoulder as the muscle stretched. He spread his feathers above their heads, ducking his neck so as to share the shelter. Fluffy snowflakes settled upon his pale wing, wind sloughing across the smooth surface as the storm continued around them.
"I don't know if you heard, but the Foothills was taken over by the Grey," he began softly, tipping his muzzle toward her ear so she could hear him speak over the hollow voice of the wind. "I'm an Executioner now. I know, it sounds pretty morbid." He laughed with a slight shrug, pulling his other wing against his body to preserve warmth. "It's good, though. Suits a scary guy like me," he teased with a grin. Of course, Murdock could hardly be scary if he wanted to, but he liked to think he was capable of anything.
"I missed you, you know," he smiled softly, turning to meet her gaze with wide, green eyes. "There are few who can tolerate me like you can." She was the childhood companion he had never had; making up for lost time playing games with him and entertaining his more colourful side. When at first she had come upon him in Birdsong, he had hardly expected that the dark mare with the thorned crown would become a friend, when at first she had looked so threatening. Now, she was one of his few ties to reality, grounding him when his head was in the clouds and saving his bacon when danger approached.
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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Image Credit
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[O] Blood Stains on the Snow [Snö, Open]
