“Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact.”
The noise was deafening, and as shapes begin to form from the dark into that of other equines, Cetan's hide quivered, and he fell back behind Thor some, ears straight flat against his head, nostrils quivering with every ragged breath. Anxiety clutched at him. He couldn't think fully, there were just so many shapes that loomed from the dark. Thor guiding, practically having to push Cetan forward towards whatever was creating the rushing pressure in his ears. But Cetan's ears pricked straight at Thor when he spoke, and a look of startled shock flashed across Cetan's face, then wary resignation. His punishment would come later, then.
Loyalty? He wanted to inquire on the word, his curiousity stirred once again, but he stifled the urge. No, he'd gotten himself into a grand enough mess as it was, no need to further dig his grave. So he remained quiet, allowing Thor to guide him as he listened to the elder's words. No rank appealed to the small dapple; he had no knowledge or interest in plants save for eating, and although he considered the glass wall beautiful, he just couldn't picture himself creating something that awe-inspiring. More than likely his creations would be withered and horrible to look upon. At the prospect of becoming a soldier, of fighting others, the youth balked mentally. No. No no definitely not. Philosopher intrigued him somewhat, but the thought of doing anything for a God drew up his anxiety. How could one such as he even register in the eyes of a god? He was not worthy of speaking to one, let alone working for one. But then, Thor mentioned a final class, and this one snagged Cetan's attention.
He had a love for riddles, for pondering the lyrics for hours, days even, until he figured out some deeper meaning. Mindgames and other such mental puzzles had been a delight given to him as a foal, something his mother had actually done for him. She would present him with some puzzle, and he would be left to his own devices in figuring it out. Finding information also appealed to the young stallion, and he lifted his head, gazing up at Thor. "I want to be a sleuth." There was nary a scrap of his usual hesitation, only the flicker of the determination that defined the black's very being. It was the determination to live when all others would have perished, the determination to please others even at the cost of his own health, and it was the determination that led him to this moment. But within seconds of it's arrival, it was vanquished by his broken spirit, and Cetan dipped his head. "That is if you'll let me." He said, making his tone as apologetic as he could for his outburst of defiance.
In the silence that followed, Cetan focused on the rushing noise that fuddled his thinking and distracted him so. He had never before seen the sea, nor heard her calls, and was finding it very annoying. He shook his head, as if trying to rid his ears of the sound; it was like one had shoved a wad of moss into his ears. Then Thor spoke, and Cetan blinked in surprise, then frowned lightly as Thor clumsily butchered his accent, his language. "It means..." Cetan hesitated, gaze flickering to the ground at his hooves. What had he been thinking? He held no right to call Thor such, and now the giant stallion wished to know what it meant! He could not lie, no, he was a terrible liar. "It means... gentle one. It is in the language of my home. Forgive me... i did not realize you did not speak it here."
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Word Count:691 Tags:@[Thor] |
Please tag Cetan in all posts.
Any force is allowed against Cetan short of killing him.
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