All teasing aside (Crafter, Finn)

[PRIVATE] All teasing aside (Crafter, Finn)

Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164

Deceased

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER

Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel

01-04-2014, 11:25 PM

Fina could have very nearly purred with delight when his dark eyes went wide and soothed out a response that only succeeded in pumping elation. She was usually quick to spark a temper when others came around, but this adolescent adored attention. Food and flattery--but perhaps food above all else. If you offered her either or even both, she would be content with your presence for a short while. The dwarf stallion made good headway in her option by appearing taken aback and referring to our folk lore of old times long since passed. Fina whispered in broken babyish words, “He nice, smart, good horse.”

I stifled the urge to frown and scoff her eagerness to absorb his curiosity as hooflicking. “Yar,” I said mildly, returning my attention back to his sandy toned face with a small smirk, “They are rare, I’ve only witnessed two others in my lifetime—and those had been of a wild sort.” Memories of a certain black steed rose in my mind, his steel eyes shining and body a sheen of perspiration. Standing above his soldiers with a stern grin. The last time I’d seen him; his proud body had been slew across the sands he had spent a full life guarding. A phoenix had honored his farewell. Aye, I missed my late mentor even now.

The foothills steed answers my question with a typical response for those with a wandering heart, my smile shifts to one of knowing and understanding. This was a wide world fit for those that craved adventure, or loved the change of scenery. Before I could say anything more the stranger posed a question, or rather two separate questions. It was his ending comment that captured my attention, and brought a new light of curiosity to my eyes. A dawn of possibilities and the faint breath of hope fluttered a patient heart even faster---I couldn’t help but dare to think that luck had indeed decided to bless this meeting.

Politely I answered his question, “My home lies in the deserts of Dragon’s Throat, tis where I was born and raised.” Ears drift forward and chin tucks toward my chest, my smile remains as I answer his second question. Though there is a new light dawning in my eyes. “Tis armor, crafted by Lord Earth. It remains dormant in this form, and takes on the appearance of a collar.” The metal hums against my chest, lifeless in appearance to all that gaze on its form from the outside—but its warmth and throbbing pulse have long since given me belief that this steel wasn’t as null as some believed. “Ye is a crafter? I find myself in need of such talents.” Gleaming pools shift to his face.