A spring wind blew about the white locks, tossing them without care about his golden neck. That golden son stands firm. Each sinew and cell charging in this quiet moment, gathering its strength for what lies ahead. This moment though, was quiet and tender. A small fawn nose touches the cold gold, and it sends a warm spreading across him. Turning his earth eyes from the valley before him, the gold looks down at this small creature. Where the gold was to go, the fawn could not follow. That had not stopped him so far. Twice this morning the gold had pushed that creature away, each time with anger, the last he still wore on his shoulder. Haldir was determined not to be left for what was to come. Something weighed heavily on that gold’s mind. The cause of this new emotion on the gold’s face was to be found and conquered. So the deer had followed.

Yet he could follow no more. Here, by a sparse outcropping of rugged tundra brush the gold turns and faces the small fawn. He would let the creature see, and learn. It was not as he wished it, but it is what the babe had innocently chosen. It was time the child knew what darkness the world could hold. The gold would shelter him no longer. But try as he might, the gold had stopped, for as deep as his irritation of the fawn grew, it could not erase what heart lay in their bond. Leafen starred head lowered to the creature, and it blew about it a fog of warmth. The small fawn wagged his tail gently, but when he looked up and saw the darkness growing in the gold’s eyes, he stilled. A faint bleat, though forbidden, rises in the air. The babe was unafraid, but the gold was not. With a gentle push the fawn falls under the brush. The tiny creature pleads, but the gold is deaf to it. “Maeth [Battle]” The small fawn looks up, with ears broad to this new word, but the gold is already moving.

The golden’s mind was no longer his own, but locked down for what is to come. A rough call, shaking out his head, the golden comes in sight of that dark oppenent. This was idiotic, and pathetic excuse for a battle. By orders of the new lady all were to draw out their blades and fight not an enemy but one another. Shaking his twin horns has he trotted to the field he could not see sense in it. This was for soldier perhaps, but for those of his class to bring his might against others, was a waste. Training each horse should do on their own. This heated contest would do nothing but leave their forces broken, and maliciously set against one another. It is true this was more an out lash of being forced into battle by orders he could not resist, but the gold would not admit such truths. It was to be a training, their leaders had commanded, but were they so blind to see, that there was no such thing as ‘taking it easy’. Every fight was personal. Every challenge a threat on your life. So nothing about this spar was different from any other.

Seeing the other across the valley the gold stopped short. A smirk rises on his lips as he looks at the hound which traced the other’s steps. Now that’s not very fair is it? Best make it even. “Aduial” The crown atop his head began to shiver and grow. Not waiting, the gold charges forward. Metal rattles and shakes, with its protection fully extended the gold sides. Coming closer, he finds he knows that face. Ulrik, Illynx’s lover. Vengeance on that lady had been stolen, so her lover would have to do. What better way to bring her down than to add a few scares to this creature. Turning out the gold moves to the right of where the beast should be standing, his cloven hooves viciously pounding in case any mutts dared step closer. Then arching back left, and leveling that armored head the gold readies to draw the first blood.

Oh but his set mind is broken as a small cry carries to him across the gentle wind. A tiny bleat of a babe. Haldir stood on the rise, his small frame trembles, and the same pain which strikes his heart at seeing this sight, is felt in the gold, in spite of the hardened walls against it. It was too late for the gold to shield the wickedness, his body already lowered and lunging. The innocence of the fawn was to be broken like this dark creature’s flesh.


OOC ::I don't know where the heck the feels ran with this one. Perhaps I've watched too much Hobbit for one morning. >.> I thought about scratching this after the feels ran away with me in the first two paragraphs...but in the end I couldn't...so I made it work.
TAG:: @[Ulrik]
ATK:: 1/3
WORD::791
Injuries:: None
Summary:: Thranduil, after calling out his armor charges Ulrik head on. Coming closer he drifts to his right then when he thinks he's in range cuts back in. Just then Haldir, having left his hiding spot, cries to him.
"Speech"