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Scent of blood and sweat rummaged the clear air of the Basin and those thin nares twisted in place. It had been ever so long since the smells, and tastes of battle registered in the golden boy. The gore never suited him, but oh that tinge of a challenge he secretly craved. It was awakened in this moment, in remembrance. You see battle as physical. Mechanical pulsations surging electricity in the air. He sees it through different lenses. The gold dusted eyes see putting the mind in action. Words become movements, and all was out in the open. Know the horse, win the spar. It’s why he could pound those repeat offenders into the ground, he knew them. Yet that was a long time ago. Now the gold boy leaned on words far too much. Remembering his thoughts oh so long ago to begin training anew, the gold was distracted momentarily. Low barreling voice interrupts him.
A her? He brutally tore apart a her? If he bore no marks then this fight was looking a tad unfair. Now Thranduil was no chivalrous knight but damn. Gold brow raised, hoping the beast would take as an impressed move. One showing congratulations. When it really just questioned the brute’s sanity. You could hit a girl, but when it comes away like this, well, there are questions to answer. And of course there was that feather. The gold knew racists ran about like rats in the mountain hole, but he also knew, from Illynx they were meant to be under cover. He smiled as the beast continued, but it was not in greeting, but in calculation. He was no fair judge by any means, but that golden boy loved to shake big white and red mountains down. The poor girl was going to get some justice, not that she’d ever know it. On top of that, it was only a side effect. No, the twin horned’s primary feature was to stir a little bubbling cauldron in the Basin. Lucky for his lady it might be in her favor this time, again a happen stance.
Information is a lovely thing, but it can be devilishly tricky to get if the victi-subject happens to be taller, stronger, and every single way bigger than you (though Thranduil wishes it to be noted for his pride’s sake he carried a horn more than the draft). He also wasn’t covered in blood. But this one was already wary. That stallion looked with a hint of suspicion, as if unsure how to proceed, and the awkwardness of it settled between them. If you need something from someone, well, above you, best not let it get too uncomfortable. “Agreed” Came the smooth assurance and smile, though it was hard to pull off when looking up. Think, quick. He followed his pattern, please with words, praise, then get what you seek. “I see now why the Basin name is revered. You do it a great service.” Ease the tension, let him relax. A chuckle from the gold chest, “I’m glad we’re not enemies, I don’t think it would end well for my hid.” There, maybe he’d like that praise, maybe now we can slip this in? “The feather is a proud prize. Tell me, what did the silly bird say to cost her that which you wear on your coat?” He grinned, letting the devilish sparks seep onto his lips. “I do love a good story.” Especially one that will be the teller’s downfall.
OOC ::
"speech"
@[Krieger]
I'm not much for guts and gore,
But please, oh please, tell me more.
But please, oh please, tell me more.
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
