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10-15-2014, 09:35 AM
Of course the golden man knew more than any thought he should. He was a prince of the sly, and a skilled sorcerer of information. Able to pull and gleam it from the smallest hints and actions. So when it came to anger over him knowing too much the golden was well acquainted with those glares. The difference, and the source of his irritation was where those glares were coming from. His lady snaps at him. The golden’s whole face changes. Ear pin back, eyes narrow, and head raises level. How dare that woman. How dare she try to tame and rebuke him. A snort rolls through him. It’s not that he particularly crude being, but knowing as much as he did that cruel sire deserved no praise, especially in him bring his own death to himself by trying to dip into the wrong honey pot.
But she was his lady. It stops him, but also builds a growl deep in his chest, which is silenced before it grows, but still showed his irritation. This living arrangement was pushing the limits of his patience. The golden after all, should be remembered from the first, despising authority. He was not one to follow rules nor a commander’s wish. Even though his plan called for it, the golden could barely stomach it, for a good cause or not. The golden knows his place though, so he retire, and saying on in return, “They should know who he was.” And who he was not, no matter what gifts and apologies an abuser offers, their crimes are still plan for all to see, and they rarely have changes of heart.
It is of note those a slight pang of his soul is felt in this whole ugly mess. The golden himself was not a blameless man in all things he had done regarding the after effects of a passionate love. Not that this could be seen or could even be pulled from him. He would not deviate from his moral high ground, even if it was a mountain of lies. The golden reassured himself as he took the stares of the children in stride they knew nothing of that love, and loss. There were far worse things in this world than the death of a father, they may no longer be innocent to death, but the world could be far crueler. No one could use it against him here though, none could drag his name down below Krieger’s level. Even if that is where it should be, for he did worse than simply beat a woman, and mourned for far more innocent deaths that his own hooves had caused.
It would have been alright though, the golden was irritated, but nothing he wasn’t unused to. You don’t get good without knowing how to stare back at those who glare such as the children. His soul as well was well hidden, and kept far from this world. It was only when his lady, which was getting harder to call her, turned to the two foals and asked them what they knew the golden picked back up the charged air. She dared question him. That was his skill, his charge. She dared take a child’s word over his?! That bitch.
In all his anger the death prince’s small words of comfort were ignored. It is not that the golden did not care for that dark son. In fact plans were well laid for him as well, but the gold’s focus was far from them. So he turns with a forced silence as the children speak their pieces. For you see it was not that he wished to bar the orphans from this place, in fact he could care less. It was the questioning of the gold’s knowledge that ruffled him. Not that the gold would ever let it show. Only a slight glare in his eyes betrayed the feelings so boldly shown before.
What the bay colt though, does not know what he speaks. He uses it, a smirk coming brashly to the golden. The colt knew what power his knowledge held, but not what he spoke. That would be the third. The animal stampede, the stag and wolf head, and now this. Heart rate increases and the gold ignores the colt’s pride in his dark knowledge to look with seriousness at his lady. She had been with him at each turn, and witnessed every danger. She knew the real weight, along with him, of these words. This too, was certainly not something the child could make up, it fit too much with what the gold already knew. So, though hesitant, he believes the child tells the truth. Looking to his lady though, he searches her mind on it. Not that he cared for this stupid herd, or even his lady herself, but if an innocent child was not to be spared, and the whole land experiencing these terrors, then tis was getting much more serious.
So when the dark gaze he gives is broken by the filly’s words there is little patience left for such trivial things, besides she only confirms the gold’s words. He desired not to waste more time in the matter. Looking back to her with more stern glare the gold let’s her speak uninterrupted, and believe me, that was a great kindness given by him. It is only when she reveals the feather the gold is drawn back in. Tassled tail flicks hard against his side as earth eyes look rather long at it before back up to the buffalo horned. Speak of his truest heart. Cloven hoof slams on the ice ground, splitting off splinters. That girl knew nothing. She knew nothing of the world and her words showed it. So damn trusting was she. That white and red bastard was no better than a beetles which crawl over the dead in the earth. A few could moments could never wash off the blood that white coat carried. The golden turns as the girls retires and hisses low, below their level of hearing at his lady beside him. “He took the eye of the girl he beat. It is lucky that one death satisfied the Falls.” For all his lady’s talk of peace the world was seriously turned against her, and it is amazing her blood was not demanded alongside his.
The two children now stand with re-strengthened core and the gold had much more to think about. Far from showing up the golden, the bay had given him the very bits of information the golden needed. He was arming that golden son. The girl was putting on a fine show, and his lady would no doubt fall for them. It was a woman’s nature after all, especially with her own child still in tow, to feel a pull of heart more. So the golden looks at the two children with a still charged gaze, especially glancing down at that feather, then to his lady. “Speak as you will my lady, but their father’s crimes seem to have been paid for by his own blood. His crimes, however dark,” the gold steals a glance to the two with a sinister gaze, then back, “…should not be carried by the innocent.” The last word slipped out with more venom than the rest, but the gold says no more. However twisted there was some sense of justice in his breast. Let his bitch of a lady do whatever she damn well pleases about the dead soldier and his children, the gold cared not about them anymore. Mostly as there did not seem to be much in it for him anymore. His worth had not much been increased for his knowledge, and it seemed the blue feather was not to be his today. The matter of interest and concern was the continuous morbid fits of the dead, and even that needed to wait for another conversation without children’s ears. So the golden is left to simply look with growing disinterest at the gathering. For all his love of chaos even he admitted it had to have a purpose, mainly, his entertainment.
OOC :: Push ALL Thran's buttons!
"speech"
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