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08-28-2012, 01:57 PM
 G A S P A R D The sparkle in your eyes keeps me alive... Gaspard faintly smiled towards the charcoal femme as warmth had spread through her at the actions of the mammoth brute. Her lean figure was now one he would happily look upon as one for comfort, strength, and of course as his leader. Recognising the need to be a unit and at one if they were to survive, the strange monochrome understood the importance of remaining close to the members of the Qian. Her words that spoke of being family fascinated him, for he not remember his own family. It was a sad thing, but he wondered if perhaps this new "family" would be a good substitute or the foundations of building another one, maybe even better than the former. He stepped even closer, and pushed his large velveteens towards her neck in a way of acceptance towards her before pulling back and adding, "You are my family." His odd way of putting together sentences almost made it sound as unique as his accent, but the warm tone in his voice suggested nothing more than justifying the fact he was mirthful about becoming another member of the non-related family. Her question struck a nerve within him, one that flung out ready to spill everything to her. Mirage's curiosity was answered back with enthusiasm from the mad brute; the voices were now cooling down and keeping quiet. He was ready to tell it all to the obsidian duchess, or as much as he could remember. Settling himself into a comfortable poise, his hind right pillar tipped to keep the weight off its feathered mass, he gazed into the charcoal mare's orbs, "Warrior I became as far as I remember. I do not know where I come from, I do not know who I was..." He regretted to announce this to Mirage, for she had been bristling with intent and curiosity to hear his past. "I fight with another, and after that I remember not my past." He dipped his head, enchancing his crown scar to the maximum. It was a painful reminder of something that happened a while ago, but was still very fresh in his memory. Deep down he could still hear the ripping of flesh, the squeals from the two brutes, the daggers hitting down on bones and bruising the pelts. |
