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09-07-2014, 09:24 PM
This was a mighty happy lot. The two creature still whipped about the wind, lost in their own stories of love and heart ache. Misery was supposed to love company, not the other way around. How could you expect the golden to give the poor damsel a happy answer, look upon this creature. Look past he who trumps around with a happy flip of his prideful head, and a spring in his gait. Truly look at the life you have cannot see in a glance. See him who fought for love and lost. He who lost that which he loved and could have loved in the process. See the coward that slipped away in the night of storms to turn his back on her. Examine if you will the arrogance, and brash acts, and know they only provide a distraction, a tv screen forever keeping the ache locked away and quiet. How could such a creature give this damsel queen, who so gently reached out to him with her pure ways, the answer she sought? The one without pain, suffering, or sacrifice?
It leaves the girl in a matching agony. Hark lifts hearing her head press and scrap against rough bark of a tree. It pulled him, as before. Perhaps her words won’t break it, for there seems to be more going on. He was focusing on her so quickly. Her eyes closed she couldn’t see this reaction, but we can. The twin horns rise to look at her, tassled tail curls pensively close. A bubble seemed to press his chest and some unease more pressing than the well-known one knocks gently. It lifts a front hoof and tips his muzzle to her. The golden is going to touch her? Comfort her? She was a damsel girl, with mind that could never meet his. She is not worth his effort. What good can come of this?
Thankfully, it is ended before it goes too far. The gold was rarely unthinking, but this night was proving to cause all sorts of ill thought out schemes to rise. Rain patters on something hard, like a clinking. Head curves about to look out at the storm to find it slipping. No, that can’t be right. Body straightens and pulls itself more together. A glass dome began to grow on all sides of the small shelter, locking away the two into a quiet room, away from the world. Gold harks lean back and the gold let concern flow upon his face. But when he looks back to that damsel queen and sees her childish face so much lighter, all is mended. It was her doing, magic. They both needed the peace. It was the agreed need for it that silenced any outward recognition besides looking about it. The golden was more solid now, the storm seemed far away, and this girl was certainly a well-paid distraction. Good thing it didn’t go too far, and he touch her, it would have ruined this.
So the girl found some inner core, a solid footing. She seems still to hesitate, golden harks wait for the coming question. Could love be different? The gold was more prepared this time, and regaining himself. Head did not bow, nor heart sink, though a running drip of water down his shoulder caused the flesh to flinch, but that is unrelated, of course. The gold was always keen to say his final word. He thought through his mind before he spoke, so why would it be any different from as he said? It could not...could it? Was his answer he had crafted not suited to her tastes? It leaked in his mind that the golden was not seeing her well enough. Too deep in his own self worries to carefully watch her as before. That surely was it. Still, as he searched for another answer, he could find none. That was the only definition of love he knew, and for once he let himself be blinded to seeing the forest.
Ironic really, but not humorous to the golden son. He was not used to being without an answer. Luckily, she was drawing him up and out, returning his mind to him. It may not have an answer but it was never without an escape plan. So as those earth eyes look down buying time, they spy that small basket, and carefully cradling a small egg. The gold knew not where this would lead, but at least it would keep the absence of an answer from going unnoticed. The damsel girl was always one to make up her own stories. Perhaps she’d think this her answer. “My friend why do you cradle an egg from another creature so carefully?” Would this lead to some lesson on love? With any luck.
OOC ::
@[Kahlua]
"speech"
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
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