the Rift


[PRIVATE] Golden Sun Sets

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#1

Darkness and fog covered and cloaked the swamplands of the south. Autumn kissed the land in an evening fog that masked all in haze, turning the usual threatening suffering swamp into an eerily peaceful place of seclusion. For you see all those day travelers were surely to have returned home. Safe in their warm beds. So when a brown creature moves through the woods and slop on the outskirts of the swamp he seems to be only creature for miles. It’s hard to tell if he cares. In fact, it’s hard to tell even what he is at first. Four brown caked legs drag like leaden shovels through the waters, stumbling and mangled in pace. What appears to be the head is low, brushing against the swamp grasses. Brown continues to coat it and the horns rising from it, but eyes are absent, closed under the weight of more mud. Body is laden with the same themes, only this time added to drying mud comes strange red marks upon the creature’s hip. In all, it’s a completely unrecognizable swamp creature. You would never know it did not belong to the depths of the muddy waters, that is, until you noticed the small gold coat peeking through cracks in the dry mud.

It was indeed, the golden son. Though his coat usually so vibrate and full of pride has literally been dragged through the mud. He walks, if you can call that pained step that, from the Threshold, past events he wishes to forget. Perhaps that’s why he continues on, even though danger has passed long ago. Perhaps he wishes to pass out completely. Truly let darkness slip in. Make him forget. He had been so sure, so proud. So secure that his toned body and fighting skill were returned. The gold had been wrong. It ruined him. His hip was not just strange, it was pained, cuts deep and crossing mangled his flesh and was becoming flustered under the dried mud and sweat. These were nothing serious though. Nothing life threatening to cause this beast to wander the swamp lost. Mind could always overcome matter. That was always a solid thought, but his mind had broken too. Memories and words were indeed cruel weapons to wield. Their wounds cut so much deeper, and stung so much longer. Unlike flesh they never healed.

Ground rose to a small land bridge in the swamp, but those earth eyes remained closed. So when cloven hooves, struggling as it was to carry their burden on the uneven floor, crashed into the bank they failed him. Body, for the fifth time that day came crashing down, and this time it did not rise. Stillness returned to the swamp with a low groan bringing back in the silence.

Swamp waters ate away at the mud, revealing more of the golden coat, but even with his returning features, the golden was near unrecognizable. Eyes remained closed, mind reflected the darkness of the swamp, and he did not move. It was as he wished it. The golden son could not return to the north in this state, he should be in the Throat by now. So he’d traveled south. That prideful man was tamed, but it could not rid him of it completely. He would suffer whatever hell demanded to avoid being caught in this state. Even deadbeats have standards. Near dead he was. Dead to the world. Dead to his body. Dead in his mind. He only knew he lived through his continued pain, and even that was slipping away in fevered, and long desired sleep.



OOC :: He's just sleeping. =]
"speech"

If I die young,
Buried in mud,
Nevermore golden sun,
Setting into the red blood.
credits

[Image: 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.

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#2


I've never felt so lost. My heart broken by the too-recent events by the sea with Dalibor and that pegasus stranger. The words he said, the pieces of my heart he left shattered in the sand. I have yet to return home, not wanting to face.. anything to remind me of the pain that hasn't even begun to fade. I don't want to talk to Africa, or Sohalia, and I don't want to risk finding Dalibor there and facing him so soon. I'm not even sure if this is a passing fight.. or if.. whatever had started between us has now been destroyed in an instant.

A loud sigh escapes my lips as I hide myself in the darkness of the forest. I don't want to be found. I want to be lost in my own world, I want to somehow escape my thoughts. But how can I? I'm alone like I want, but moping is the only thing I'm left to do. I think right now, though, I deserve to mope. It doesn't take long for me to find someone else though - isn't solitude just so hard to get here? What am I supposed to do with this... dirty golden unicorn lying in the mud? I move closer to him, and stop just close enough to reach my nose forward and sniff him.

Yes, he's alive. That's good. I sniff again and detect the scent of... Basin. I snort at his form and paw at the ground, wanting to wake him up. For what reason? Am I going to yell at him, run away, make friends? I don't know. I guess I want to make sure that he's not dying or something. I'd feel awfully guilty leaving another equine to die without at least asking what's wrong. And it does seem like something is wrong. He doesn't seem to move, so I neigh at him and paw again at the mucky substance covering the ground.

WC: 326
Tag: @[Thranduil]

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*You may do anything you wish with Andromeda excluding dismemberment and death.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#3

It’s so dark and quiet. A peaceful place in the dark depths of black. Peace is so rarely found for that golden son, so he welcomes it. He walks with a physical freedom so rarely felt in full. There he can lie in the depths of night and no light stuns or burns his eyes. No sound needs his attention. Nothing needs explanation. A weathered sigh slips that haunty mental figure. Peace was usually not a feeling welcomed. Yet, here now, it was a blessed mercy.

It does not last. A wind roars into his harks. Earth moves under him. A groan of disturbance rumbles from under the muck. Still body resists the world, why leave this blessed darkness. Outstretched head rolls over and stills. Fate did not enjoy her wake calls being ignored though. A muffled roars rolls sharp and hard through his harks. That did it. Eyes flew open, and body jerked, only to lock up as the pain comes roaring back to life within him. Earth eyes close back again, no, come back. Deariest peace come back. But she is gone, and there was something that haunted the slow mind when he had woken.

Slowly gold dusted eyes opened, and sure enough there stood two hooves, moving about in blurs. They were in motion and in unease the gold fears further threat. Snorting and grunting, he moves with a swiftness of self preservation. Brown head lifts up and neck pulls his front up. Kneed have to lock to hold him. Jaw clinches as his hips will not obey. Half way up the beast wavers. Looking out he see a creature, but no horns. The relief nearly causes him to fall back, but instead he looks near drunken like at her. Mind pulling slowly together pieces. Its speed a snail’s pace to it usual strength.

A Pegasus, the girl, for surely it was a girl, ruffled two wings. Her coat was black as night, splashed with white, or was that just the stars in his eyes? Vision was faltering with sudden movement and most likely blood loss. The bird’s scent was strong enough to catch but it was so hard to sort through clearly. Salt. Heat. No. Yes. Oh he couldn’t hold this much longer. Knees began to tremble. He was failing again, but he still had some deeper instincts. The girl was tense and stern, but she was not threatening too much. It was all he needed to know. Like slow motion, the gold yields, and sinks back into waters of the deep forest swamp. Twin horned head clearer, but still morning the loss of the dark peace. If he could only return there perhaps the embarrassment of someone catching him in this state would be slip into the black night.


OOC ::
"speech"

Never was there such peace,
As the blackness where light does not reach.
credits

[Image: 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.

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#4

The stallion stirs, just a slow movement at first. But as soon as he sees me so close, the movement turns sudden and near-violent. He struggles up to his feet, and I back up, feeling that his big movements put me in fresh danger. Especially with those horns at the top of his head moving wildly through the air. His golden body, pale tresses, all muddied on one side where he has been lying in the muck. I think that he's going to say something, but those lips don't move, and his brown and gold eyes speak nothing. Clearly, he finds me a disturbance, not worth his time to both responding to. Indeed, it takes only a few moments before his body is descending again, back to the swampy bed where it had just laid. I shake my head, embarrassed for him. I stand there, refusing to move. But after a moment, a strange and funny idea comes to my mind, and it's so random that I can't help but act on it. I walk into the swampy ground and step over him so that I'm standing with my hind feet behind his back, my front feet by his belly, and I bend my nose down to sniff him.

"Hey. You could at least give me your name and a hello." I can only hope that he won't start and impale me with his horns, or any such sort. My heart beats hard in my chest - this is more interaction and close contact than I've had in quite awhile. It's braver than I've been for awhile. And yet, I feel a small thrill run through me as I stand there, and a small, naughty grin finds a comfortable spot on my maw. Am I so naughty these days? Naaaawww....

WC: 299
Tag: @[Thranduil]
Permanently short posts. -_-

ANDROMEDA
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*You may do anything you wish with Andromeda excluding dismemberment and death.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#5

Instead of it all slipping back into black, the embarrassment of this encounter only grew. Blind, deaf, and wholly uncaring of the girl who woke him, the golden did not note her devious trick. All was calm in his mind, but it was waking. Who was that girl? What did she want if not to threaten? A wind rushes past his hark and they flicker back and forth. Then the voice roars in loud and clear. Earth eyes flash open, there would be no going back to calm darkness now. Head raises but the girl is gone. Then the wind rushes by again, from behind. Harks flick back and twin horned head spins (a little too fast for his steadiness), and see a dark figure on top of him.

Body readied to break and win back his blackness, when a curious scent came through his dull features. Salt. Primrose. Sage. The Throat. At last the heaviness in him broke with realization, and mind leapt to heights unseen as it built upon a plan. Thankfully the dullness of before had kept his features from breaking or those earth eyes from flashing. A long ragged sigh finally leaves the golden son, and he looks up to the white splattered girl. He was still not at all happy with her choice of position, but the golden had bigger fish to fry. “Sorry…” It came out low and shaky, full of shame and weariness. Golden body did not struggle to get up even (thankfully his pride was already low so it did not force its way through as usual). Instead he looks up finally into the silly girl’s eyes. “I am Thranduil, an outcast.” The usual greeting was laid aside as the gold rationalized, he needed her service. A lowly outcast, injured and worn in need of a place to stay. Oh…very nice golden son, not very original, but still very nice. Did he know she knew of his scent? No, how could he, but fear not dear reader, the golden always finds a way.


OOC ::
"speech"

At last I see the light,
Now begin the masks and lies.
credits

[Image: 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.

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#6

I think that my little game is quite fun, and I enjoy the position I hold over him. Not for any.. sexual or dominant reason.. but because I feel young and childlike. I giggle when his eyes flash open, and he whips his head around toward me. I take a step to the side, and keep my head above the reach of his horns. No, dear, I don't want to become your personal pin cushion, but thank you for your kind consideration! He's kind enough to not attempt to struggle to his feet, and I wonder at the muddy creature being so gentlemanly. A nagging thought grabs at my attention. I wish they were all so gentle. An image of Dalibor fills my mind, and my heart aches in my chest. I just want to know.. what it's all about. What happened? Why did such a simple exchange drive us apart so easily? The mud-gold beast below me sighs, clearly aggravated by this situation, and my attention is drawn back to him. He offers his name, and I try to think if I've heard of him before. Thranduil, an outcast. I think it is strange that he clarifies he is an outcast. I would never expect an outcast to actively declare themselves as such - usually allegiance is only named if they belong to a herd. But, I've never heard his name, at least that I remember. And whatever scent he has is masked by the mud. I step off of him and walk around so he can see me, and he is able to stand freely should he desire to. Now that I've found out what I need to know, I'm reluctant to speak again, but don't I need to return the favor? Common courtesy. "Andromeda, of the Throat." Surely even outcasts know that the "Throat" refers to the Dragon's Throat. I watch him with two-toned eyes, admiring his shape. But such a fit and handsome man, what is he doing here in the mud? Is he depressed? I'm not sure I'm that good at cheering anyone up, but I could try... Is he hurt? I can't tell with the mud swallowing him up. I wait patiently for him to say something, and the look of expectancy is all over my face.

WC: 382
Tag: @[Thranduil]

ANDROMEDA
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*You may do anything you wish with Andromeda excluding dismemberment and death.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#7


Imagine his luck and finally finding on the Throat’s elusive members here in a swamp. The girl sides steps along him, and he realizes his long horns were a threat. The gold was not normally in this position, and it was unease for him as well, but he would take more care. When a bird lands in your hand, it’s best not to scare it off. He’d move slower next time. Though, the gold had to admit, he would be more comfortable if he could persuade her with those twin tips to stand aside. Peace though, he has a part to play once more, and inside it brings him back to life to hold such a feeling, such need. To weld his powers over another without even the smallest effort was always a thrill. Not that you could tell it by his features. The golden face, starred with a white leaf keeps low and droned, eyes half shut.

The girl is unconvinced. She seems to ponder over it for a moment, still and thinking. Was she thinking his name sounded pretty or the oddity of it he could not tell. The golden man does ponder as he watches her move off that perhaps, though it had been key to his story that part of it could have waited. Still, he is at last free of her shadow. She speaks first though, confirming her herd. Now was his time to make his move. “The Throat?” It comes with more energy than before. His head picks up. “Andromeda, please, do you have a healer there?” Then the gold looks away. His head tucks and eyes shut, this part of the play was no acting. Shaking from fore limbs pull at his body and a screaming, searing pain runs up his spine, punching his gut on the way. Mangled flesh on his hips, covered in a dark mud begins to run darker till it is red. He pulls at it, but his hinds will not answer. Closed eyes grip tighter and breathing, so easy when he was lying in the mud, becomes strained as he again pulls against his hinds. They come. Well, one comes and pulls the other. His right hip drags the other, which dips and holds no weight. Face releases, and crumbles. Head swooning low as body trembles from the effort, and agonizing nerves reawake.

It took all he had to pull it back together. All his skill to let the joy of before push him to picking his head up and care about the way he looked to her. Though he was faking his identity this was no fake pain. It still burned across him. Even the thought of carrying himself all the way to the Throat to reach their healer made his head spin. He would do it though. He had to. Giving this pain purpose did at least make it easier for the mud and blood covered gold to look up to the girl and ask, “Please…help me.”


OOC :: Just to let you know, he has three horizontal slashes on his left hip, and one going straight up. That hip also was hoof-punched, so basically its all mangled. As well as small cut on his forehead.
"speech"
@[Andromeda]

There are some things in the world you just can't fake,
For all his skills only real pain will it take.
credits

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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.

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#8
He seems relieved that I've stepped away, and I don't blame him. I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with someone invading my personal space like that either. When he hears I'm from the Throat, he seems especially excited. Is there something special about the Throat to him? I always thought that Outcasts held a general disregard for any herd. I shrug mentally, and think that maybe I'm reading way too much into his responses. Is it right to be so analytical? He asks me for the assistance of a healer and at this my ears perk up. Obviously, he doesn't know I'm a healer, that I have the blessing of the Sun God's might. Before I can eek out a response, he rises to his feet, struggling with every fiber of his being. I wince as I watch him waver and try to find his balance. As much as I may have doubted his story before, I don't doubt the sincerity of his pain. Looking at him as he stands, it's hard to see the full extent of his injuries. Slowly, the mud drips from him, until I think I can see most of what brings him pain. There's a small cut on his forehead, one of the sole places not covered in mud. That is the least of our concerns, I see. Looking at his side, I see that his hip is... destroyed. Slashes and bruises and some structure that doesn't look like a hip is supposed to look. His quivering words strike me in the heart and no matter what I may have thought at one time, I know that I must help him. My voice comes back to me, stronger than I might have imagined it would. "I am a Sun Physician, I can help you." My words are lathered with concern, and there's no doubt that my intentions are honest and true. I hope that he will let me help him, and not ben an ass as so many are. I reach my nose forward to touch his, hoping that he will let me so that I may offer a little bit of comfort from a soft muzzle and warm breath. Let me help you, Golden Son.

WC: 371
Tag: @[Thranduil]
Short aaaas always.

ANDROMEDA
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*You may do anything you wish with Andromeda excluding dismemberment and death.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#9

Sweat breaks once more under the gold’s coat of brown, and it leaves his nares clinging and grasping at air, even though he had not made one step. So badly did he want to shift his weight on his hinds, to relieve the weight, but to do so meant falling, and he had done enough of that today. Not to mention that if he fell, a sinking feeling told him he would not be getting up again. The white splashed girl breaks this dizzily depressing train of thought. Looking up to her he can see his real pain has dispelled any lies from her eyes. The gold notes her pain at simply looking upon his hips. Should he dare follow her gaze? Better not, it was hard enough to stand without knowing how terrible it actually was. Swallowing hard the gold regains some assurance this was worth it all in the sympathy that comes pouring from her eyes. Still the worry it might not actually be enough to get him to the Throat for a healer kept him from relief.

Strong words come into his pounding harks. I can help you. Body stills and he looks up to her with a heavy gaze. Was fate really going to be this kind. To let him, not only find a member of the Throat but save him from struggling to their border with this heavy burden. Perhaps it was feeling guilty for its recent beat down upon his back. In the end the golden son looks to the girl, slight relief comes with mingled remaining pain. “Oh Andromeda….” It was quivering, and for once was not intended to. Slowly the girl reaches out her dark muzzle. Relief was one thing, comfort was another. The golden flesh was not usually touched by kindness, but this world made it seem necessary, as the gold remembered back the damsel queen. Still, he does not move. It’s part of the act he’s struggling to keep up. She wanted to comfort the poor golden boy, so he lets her. Still he could not help from flinching as she touched his warm skin. It does not move away from her, and the gold closes his eyes to bring her reassurance it is welcomed. Her warm body meets his and it is first a burden, an extra heat, but the gold is no immune to the effects of sincere comfort, as much as he would like to be. So it does easy his breathing, and shaking legs, and gives him the strength to speak with a slightly stronger voice. “Please, I will do anything…” A hard swallow is pulled for effect as the stinging becomes more manageable with time to allow this small act of dramatization. “Please heal me.” Earth eyes look up and into hers with a deep rich warmth, but with the gold splashes still sizzling in pain. Hopefully this struggle of dealing with reality and lies would end soon.



OOC ::
"speech"

Never was it so hard,
To keep reality and lies apart.
credits

[Image: 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.

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#10
He lets me touch him, and I think to myself that the touch feels strange. Unreciprocated, perhaps reluctant. But again - am I reading too much into his responses? I'm so sensitive myself right now, emotional, overwhelmed. Dalibor left me in an emotional heap of addled brains, so perhaps I'm reading the situation all wrong. Or perhaps this stallion just doesn't really appreciate being touched like that. I may be invading his personal space - did I even think of that? Of course I didn't. But I do feel tension leave the air, and think that maybe he's letting me in, just a little bit. I step back and look over him again. He begs me to heal him, but doesn't he know that I would never walk away from an innocent soul in need? Probably not - he doesn't know me at all.

I look at him with sympathy and speak softly to him. "I will heal you, never fear. Don't look, I don't want you to become unsteady." I walk over toward his left him and look over it. I extend a wing, and warn him: "This might hurt for a moment." I need to clean off the wound as best I can before I heal it, and I use my feathers to gently wipe dirt and grime from his flank. Of course, I can't get it perfectly clean, I would need water to help get rid of everything. But in the middle of the forest, there is no clean water. Once I'm satisfied, I take to the task of the actual healing. I close my eyes, focusing on the space in front of me, and when I reopen my eyes, there is a small sphere of fire, floating in midair. I look toward the wounds on Thranduil's flank, and the fire moves toward it, spreading out to cover and line the wounds. I send heat through Thranduil's hip, healing wounds underneath the skin. The flames lick over the gashes, and slowly they cauterize, the blood flow stopping and the wounds turning into a light pink. They may scar, but they will not become septic or cause further problems. And the damage underneath may be stiff for another couple of days, but should heal without further problems.

Slow the flames fade, leaving his skin presumably warm to the touch. I step back and look at him with a satisfied smile, hoping to find relief in his eyes. "It is difficult to heal such wounds fully, but they should not cause you more problems after the next couple days." More words than I've spoken in a long time, but Thranduil wouldn't know that. And my lips are sealed again, a self-conscious look coming over me.

WC: 453
Tag: @[Thranduil]

ANDROMEDA
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*You may do anything you wish with Andromeda excluding dismemberment and death.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#11


This world was being too nice. Falling too perfectly into his hands. It was just too easy. The golden, as relieved as he was to hear her voice of assurance, laced with sympathy, did start at her next line. Here was the catch. He was the golden son though. He could stand any pain. Taking a deep breath he hold it as she moves around. A feather light touch tips on his back and his entire hinds flinch. Steeling himself the golden locks himself down as she brushes at the wounds. A churning of his gut rolls about him. Fate truly was trying to get in one last kick before it let him go. Every scrap across the mud, even though from the lightest touch made the golden man squirm. It only kept him steady knowing, not only was this trouble almost over, but the Throat was in his grasp.

At last she steps away. The golden’s face unhinges, as he looks forward a glow rises. Harks lift and his body braces. The light was coming from behind. His pins his ears back again. The girl had no reason to harm him, it must be part of the healing. She had promised. Still the golden, as sly as he was, was the most untrusting of creatures. Body leaned away, and his head raises, spinning as it did. It was the moment of hesitation that stopped him from breaking the spell. A warmth washed over his flank like a wave upon the sand. Body froze. Another wave, then another, washing farther and deeper. The heat grew, becoming hot, but a welcomed hot. A soothing hot. Easing tired muscles and aching pains. The searing scars were lost in its touch. Waves of warmth like those desert suns of old massaged in his cold bones. A long slow sigh leaves him and the twin horned head lowers. Earth eyes nearly shut in peace.

It all rescinds though. The waves begin to pull back, like the tide washing out again. Earth eyes open and he can feel the low dull aches, but they are tamed by the heat. As it leaves over his hips the gold holds his breath, but where searing knives had been digging in his skin is only soreness. Another exhale and the golden for a moment stands perfectly quiet. Though only a memory the heat waves had calmed more than his hip. The girls speaks though, breaking the spell, reminding the golden of his next target. A smile, though weary, cross his lips as he lifts his head up to look back over at her. The steadiness of his body was also a relief, though he still does not dare put weight on his hip. Not wanting to end the sweet simpleness of being sore, however pathetic the sentiment was. Instead he smiles at her. “Thank you Andromeda, I am certainly in your debt.” The gold was glad he was once again in his right mind, otherwise it would have made it impossible to say.

Now on to the real business though. The gold looks at her, still not daring to look back at his hip. “Perhaps then I might trouble you more.” That Spanish neck curls and a sheepish look comes upon his face. It runs his natural beauty the vain man knows, but all the better to help this sell. Looking back up and around behind him, he lets a flash of the previous agony rejoin his relief. Remembering whatever caused his pain. “You see, I’ve had…a rather, well…The Basin and I disagreed over some….umm, issues.” Looking back at the poor girl the he gives a small smile, like a whipped child trying to find favor. “Stating my place before…well, it was the realization, you understand. Some good outcast I am though…I’m a terrible defender it seems.” A small chuckle forces its way through. It’s rough and jagged, as if it had been a long time since he’d made such a noise. “Do you think…” He seems to hesitate, worried at the question, afraid and assured of rejection. “…I might seek place in your herd…the Throat, was it?” He looks don again, sheepishly, seeming to try and put himself together. “Please, I will earn my keep. I am very gifted at-“ Ah crap-THINK. Not a beat is missed. “-telling futures with the stars…and I learned the trade of making hides-“ Voice falls away. “-in the Basin.” He drops contact with her and seems to fold up into his own place. “I will understand though….” The gold seems to have returned to a silent, huddled mass of a loner who should not be alone. A creature who once thrived on the pride of herd only to have it pulled out from under him. He’s a creature out of place, he does not belong in this wood and ilck. I it not the purpose he was meant to serve. Damn. Someone get this golden man an Oscar.


OOC ::
"speech"

Warmth of heart and waves of heat,
Can not make that ice stabbed heart beat.
credits

[Image: 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.

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#12
Thranduil is stronger than he appears, and though I'm sure some of the healing must have been extremely painful, he shows his toughness and holds true. I smile with warmth and comfort, and I feel good about being able to help another soul. But that is not the end of the story, and Thranduil's lips part to beg another favor from me. Though I consider healing more than just a favor, but not something that should ever be paid back. (Unless it was perhaps an enemy that I might heal, but that is an entirely different story, a different situation.) I tilt my head, my ears perked forward as I listen to his tale and what he requests now.

He brings up the Basin, and I wonder if... maybe he was a Basiner before. That it is because of his disagreement with them that he is now an outcast. Or perhaps he is still a Basiner - is he leading me on? No, it does me no good to let so much doubt fall on someone who has never given me any reason to distrust? No, I must give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that what all he tells me is true. Except.. something about the way he talks. It's almost.. too smooth. And why is it that he double checks where I'm from? Was I not quite clear the first time? I don't let any of my suspicions show, and keep my reaction quite blank. He acts reluctant, as if waiting from me to stop him from begging and just tell him to come with me. No, I definitely have suspicions now. But how to act on them? Should I act on them? If he's hiding something, what could he be hiding? Maybe it's something simple, a personal embarrassment, I would not want to pass judgment on someone who doesn't really deserve it. Mentally I sigh - as usual, I think I might be overthinking this.

I nod my head in answer to his request. "Yes, you should come with me. We can find a place for you in the Throat, and will give you a family as long as you are true to us." I subtly narrow my eyes, hoping he understands the intent of my words. Should Thranduil ever betray my trust, he will find himself at the mercy of my wrath. I nod in the direction of the Throat. Since he cannot fly, we will have to make our way more slowly back to my home. I stand to the side, not wanting to walk in front of him in case he struggles with his newly healed wounds. We shall walk there side by side, as equals. He is lucky he found me, and not a more judgmental or easy-to-anger being. I will give him his fair chance.

WC: 473
Tag: @[Thranduil]

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*You may do anything you wish with Andromeda excluding dismemberment and death.


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