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But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
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The first thing that he notices when he hears the voice is that it belongs to an attractive mare. Oh, don't get me wrong, he is loyal to a fault to Resplendence, and he would never dream of betraying her trust - after all, he was raised in a land where mating for life was the norm and anything less was frowned upon - but that did not stop him from admiring the pretty ladies. There is a small part of him that will always be flirtatious, even though it is completely harmless now, even though he has no intentions of acting on such thoughts. But he knows beauty, and he knows confidence, and this mare exudes both. She has a grey-blue pelt that fades to darkness at her points and along her face and a pale blue mane and tail. Feathered wings sprout from her withers, and a leonine tail sweeps majestically behind her. But what really catches his eye is her markings (or what he takes to be markings, not knowing her history and all that it entailed). They could almost glow in the dark surroundings, and he finds his gaze drifting along the curves of the markings, and then over the lines of her bodice. He meets her eyes, and is taken by their color. He imagines that she regards him with reservation, and he wonders where she came from. He wonders if she knows how lovely she is; somehow, the way she carries herself assures him that she does. He recognizes something of himself in her. Royalty has a lingering effect, and though he cannot be sure of his assumptions, he would bet on her lineage being high-bred. Could she have come from a neighboring kingdom to Th'orqui? In another life, could she have been his? Could they have been paired off in some arranged relationship, destined to rule his kingdom, destined to produce a new crop of offspring to take over when they were gone? After a brief moment of contemplation, he realizes that he is staring thoughtfully (albeit rudely), and chuckles to himself, offering a friendly grin. His manner is relaxed, every bit the prince he once was: "Well, hello yourself." There is a playful lilt to his voice. "Who knew such beauty could thrive in such unfortunate conditions?" He smiles again, attempting to show that he means no harm, that he wishes to enter a game of flirtation, should she accept his invitation. He bows his head, sweeping downward in a practiced, fluid motion meant to greet nobility in his homeland. "M'lady, I'm afraid I have been rude. I am Quilyan. Might I have the honor of your name?" |
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[W/C | ---] RayoDeSoleil.deviantart.com | Ness8Bit.deviantart.com |
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!
