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06-13-2013, 11:32 PM
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The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.
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Emitting a noise that sounds much like a purr, Zarina curls up in a swatch of the mare's mane. It would seem that she has grown affectionate of her bonded's not-mate, particularly after said femme admires her work. It is always nice to be appreciated, after all, and Zarina takes such things very seriously. Her bonded chuckles at her antics, but refrains from groaning further about the crown of flowers resting atop his head. Ruefully, he remembers home; once he had been of royal blood, though crowns were not something that his family wore. It seems a cruel reminder now, a mockery of the distant past. Or perhaps it was just the illness making him depressed. Resplendence lowers herself down beside him cautiously, as though afraid to jar him. He notices her trembling and stretches out his good wing, enveloping both her and Zarina within the warmth of his body. It is a small cocoon of sorts, and works quite well to create a toasty little cave in which his lady can rest. "I am much better now," he admits teasingly. There is a pause, and then she instructs that they must move along soon. He knows she is right, but he cannot stop himself. "Soon, my lady. Let us just enjoy one another's company for just a moment longer." Or forever works, too. |
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@[Resplendence] |
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Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
