here is where we both go wrong;

[PRIVATE] here is where we both go wrong;

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354

Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT

Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod

03-04-2014, 02:24 AM (This post was last modified: 03-04-2014, 02:25 AM by Torleik.)

Torleik
A lone man loved by none:

How long can he live?

Unaware of the devastation a companion could cause, but having no qualms about sharing his heart and soul with another, Torleik saw Irelyn as a welcome reprieve from the cold blizzard within that had isolated him from any other equine’s warmth. This tiny, fluffy, wide-eyed little owl griffin had tumbled out of her egg into his chest, and gone straight through bone and muscle to nest herself firmly within his heart – then promptly climbed his spine and taken up residence in his head. Irelyn’s love for shiny things was a new discovery and was amusing the stallion to no end.

A brow of his rose when Illynx complimented both his bonded and himself. A clever blanket of flattery, applying it to more than one so as to seem magnanimous. However, the Lady’s grin was warm and Torleik believed the compliment to be sincere in its own way, even if he was not convinced Illynx knew much of real, gritty, raw sincerity. The mare’s pout at his words was a sultry, playful expression despite the frown, though the pall of gravity that hung on her graceful form lent its weight; Torleik could tell she was displeased with her title for one reason or another – Deimos, he suggested offhand.

An expression of muse covered his face and the stallion listened to her surprisingly self-aware statement. Torleik’s words came from honest thought, not flattery or cleverness. “You appeared as what you were: shocked, angry and unhappy. You were not the only one,” he pointed out. “It is not your fault others choose to hold their tongues when a perfect forum presents itself. As for me…I rarely have much to say. Then was no different,” the stallion finished succinctly. In truth, the reality was more complicated. What could he have said? I trust you no further than I can spit, Deimos, and I challenged Ulrik for the right to hold a title as yours and then do what? Challenge you? No. He would not have done that. Could not have done that. He had no desire to lead this herd, and no real desire to fight the Reaper. Torleik was aware his actions had been impulsive, but at least he had done something. Tried. That he had not spoken up for Illynx was something he now felt a twinge of guilt for – but she meant nothing to him then, as she meant little now. He did not know her, did not trust her either, and as such, he preferred to observe rather than get involved.

He still ached from his last ‘involvement.’

The Viking couldn’t help the small, snorted chuckle that rumbled up from his broad chest at her description of Deimos as a glorified sociopath. “Astute,” he merely said, a pleased little smirk on his lips. Her sorrowful apology in smile form was unnecessary. Torleik did not mind displays of emotion as he was a deeply emotional male himself, though he usually did not let it be known. It came, the memory, bidden to his mind by Psyche’s name. Torleik remembered he had only really spoken with her once, and she had been an interesting character to say the least, not someone he would soon forget. The next was Ulrik, saying bluntly he had called Psyche’s efficacy as ruler into question. Why? Because they lost an invasion? That was not the measure of a ruler; a General perhaps, a fighter, but not always a ruler.

“Was?” he queried gently, curious. “There was something strange between Deimos, Ulrik and Psyche. For as…not giving a damn as Ulrik seems to exist most of the time, he vehemently felt Psyche had failed the Basin. Very clearly, given his demand she abdicate. I did not expect her to agree and step down so simply. The power vacuum was filled by the only other person there and able.” The Viking’s smile was wry and grim. “Thus, Deimos.” Yes, he was sharing that he knew things. Perhaps he was painting Ulrik in a bad light, but Ulrik was not going to shy away from his opinion of Psyche if asked. Illynx knew. She had heard what the Engineer had said at the herd meeting.

Something in him shifted when this proud, strong Lady admitted openly to him she was discovering she was not good at being on her own. Cautiously, uncertain, Torleik stepped towards her – once, haltingly, then stopped. How could he possibly comfort this female? She was his superior. What was appropriate? He had no precedent for this in his memory. “You do not have to be alone…” Torleik heard his voice but didn’t remember speaking. Those words…they were layered. Held more meaning than even he who spoke them was sure of. The moment was delicate now, and he shut his mouth, piercing eyes gazing into her glittering, darkly beautiful ones. The warrior should know his place beneath his Queen, and he feared perhaps he had transgressed that boundary unintentionally.

Curse his unfailing compassion for a wounded female.

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[[OOC: Bunnie! Darling! Holy crap. I actually replied. If you're interested at all in continuing this, even just for a post or two more, I'm totally up for it. If not, I understand. I felt I should reply and at least give you the chance. Maybe wrap it up here and have them meet again since new herd stuffs have been decided with Torleik?? Up to you, love.]]

@[Illynx]

Credits: Image by Eagle