| World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Bunnie |
D R A G O M I R
just pretend that you want me & be my baby, be my baby
The pair of eyes that ran across his flesh were rather pleasant, Dragomir not used to strangers admiring him in any way; even those travelers who had crossed his path had shown little interest in his demeanor as this mare did, and he found it intriguing. He alleged it may be the difference between a chance encounter and one with purpose, as surely he was being judged at this moment in ways that he could not yet understand or prepare defenses for, his youth and naivety lending him no wisdom in how to present himself in the best light possible. He only knew who he was, and what little social skills he had gained while playing with young dragons and learning of the world from his parents; the twins had not been around much during his life, and so from him he learned how to treat those who were important but rather distant from himself. But this proud mare and her golden bonded were only strangers to Dragomir, no matter that he knew their names and that he found their company pleasant enough, that he respected her for the simple nature of her being that had been presented to him thus far.
When she moved, he watched her as if she were a gem gleaming in a riverbed, her black flesh riveting in the magical glow of the orbs in the branches overhead, and he remained stationary, his pale eyes following her curiously as she made her way along his side. As her hot breath broke the chill of the winter air upon his skin, he felt the pores contract in a most unusual way and a ripple of sensation vibrated across his pelt, pleasant and riveting, the dragon's even hotter breath a note following that of Mirage's exhalations. He wondered what she was looking for, smelling him like this, and if it would be impolite to not smell her back; surely he would not be permitted within her own personal space as she now invaded his, but he found that her appraisal was alluring in a way he had never encountered and rather didn't want to offend her at this moment. He'd never had anyone examine him so closely before, especially not an older woman with such prestige as this, and he found himself standing rather awkwardly and mentally confused by the time all was said and done, the black mare's odor of ash and foliage permeating his nares as her words trailed out alongside him.
The ear nearest her tilted to catch her words, his eyes having never left her as she and Akaith had took in what value they could of his appearance and scent alone. His smile in response to the mentioning of Isilme was still knitted with the remnants of his reaction to her approach to his side, but the words of the Gods that roamed these lands that followed erased the strange grin and replaced it with eyes that were wide and hardened with the strangeness of these words, the already frazzled mind of the painted stallion now firing into overclock. All at once? How was that even possible? If one had a horn or wings, was he not a unicorn or a pegasus? What room was left in that to be proud of the equine, the most noble of the breeds, who held firm their heritage despite their lack of mutated anatomy, when one was a beast who wore both horn and feather? He could have scoffed as she stated the obvious, that these strange beings of time immortal would frown upon those who were proud to be uniquely individual, unlike their creators, but the words were lost in the battle of logic that raged in his young mind, the conflicts between his upbringing and the divines of this land made him question more than he had been planning on today by far.
Her greater calling, DragonHeart, salvaged his conscious from the melee within the back of his mind, when paired with that which her people called her. He let the blasphemy of her earlier words wash away from his face, replaced with a respectful smile as he nodded in honor of her titles. No matter the conditions of the religion of Helovia, he could not deny that it's rulers were worthy of his respect if they were all as this one, even while he doubted that there were any others as traditionally honorable as the lady Mirage and her golden Akaith in a land where the deities wore the markings of all their children, choosing none over the other despite the obvious ways in which they were out weighed by one another. He found Mirage to be much like his mother as she explained her views, a mare who had come from a land inhabited by nothing than equines, a conflict in and of itself that Dragomir had never come to understood; his dam's origins were a part of his finely constructed logic on the superiority of their species, having heard of no other realms where only the horned or the winged resided.
When she asked him what might lay in his heart, however, Dragomir could pull no words to mind with ease, his ears slipping backwards in thought and his lower lip protruding ever in the slightest as his gaze left Mirage's to stare forward down the path. He assumed she meant for him to elaborate upon what he had said earlier, but now that he knew she disagreed with him, he knew also that he would have to wise in his selection of justifications. He was not as his mother, that was for certain, but he was not his father, either; he felt little ill will towards the others, no desire to harm them or create suffering, merely wished to remain seperate from them. In a way, the Gods and Goddesses of Helovia were his greatest fear walking - a point in time when the equine would simply cease to be visible, a ghost within the portrait of a being that was a blended line of the three separate races. His fear, in a way, was just as much for those who were different than he was; he wanted their bloodlines, each unique and individual, to continue as they were, the cultures inspired around their physical attributes to live on for the rest of time, however long that may be.
"In my heart I feel that we are a greater people than the rest," he began, his deep voice resonating in the quiet and darkened wood as he returned his eyes to the golden gaze of the DragonHeart, "and we should honor ourselves through both act and company." She had probably never had the thought of the equine race blending out of existence cross her mind, but she had also not been raised by Adalwulf. He took a breath, planning out the rest of his words thoughtfully, as he attempted to do at all times. Dragomir was not one for wasting breath. "You see no differences, and that is the danger. I desire only to ensure that the equine race never becomes as it is portrayed these Gods of Helovia - unseen."
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
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