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02-05-2015, 04:07 PM
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Her ears flicked, head lifting and it shook. No? No what? Torleik was about to demand what she meant, time of the essence, but her soft voice slipped out of her lips in a whisper, begging of him something he never thought he'd hear. "Just...just stay..." Stay? Where in the rest of this forsaken land would he ever want to go but where she was? Ophelia claimed they were surface wounds and though the Bloodskald found that she was mostly correct, he knew she lied. The broken skin, the burned flesh, the cracks and pain of her body - those were surface wounds. But he had never seen her so shattered, so burdened down that she could not rise from the ground. Even in the face of her mother's death she had been strong. These were not surface wounds. These were soul screams, cuts to the heart. He would hate whoever did this to her until he drew his last breath and make them pay at every turn, the Bloodskald vowed, the rage in his breast black and dirty. Even a good man could wish ill in his heart; for the general it was rare, but this was unforgivable. So he slowly, gently sank to the ground beside her, lightly pressing his muzzle to an unmarred section of her beautiful, slender neck, breathing in her scent mingled with blood and sweat and the smell of the hot springs as she continued on. Each word was a soft vibration thrumming the pain he felt inside for her, stirring the hate in his breast for her attacker. And then his hate sublimated on a name, coalescing into a picture: Mauja. He knew Mauja. He'd met the bastard once, found him in the Threshold if he remembered, observed more than anything else. Torleik hadn't liked him then and any chance of that was forever banished now. Ophelia said they fought because he asked her to dance and Torleik's gut sank. Dance? After being gone for so long? Defeat her fears? What? He was not a fool. Such words were spoken of loved ones, of someone who had hurt your heart and left, someone for whom you had feelings. The Bloodskald judged her none for her loss in battle, for her defeat at the hands of another; that was the least of his concerns right now. Selfishly, paramount in his mind was knowing if this Mauja...if he...was important to her. If he was the reason she would not open up and let the rabicano inside her heart. Did it already belong to someone else? Was he that blind, that much of a fool that he thought he could be the only one? When the God of Time himself found Ophelia worthy of his offspring? For all his poetic skill, Torleik felt words were failing him now. What did he say? "I'm...I'm sorry," he murmured against her skin, feeling...wrong now, for touching her like that. He drew his mouth back, lips set in a grim line. "You fought well, I'm sure. Defeat is...a part of life. There will always be someone stronger or faster or better. All the gods demand is that you fight well." The sentiment seemed hollow, but it was what he believed. A thick pause permeated the air and fear gripped his throat. Dare he inquire further? But he needed to know...if this would only end in pain for him. "What do you mean, defeat your fears?" the snow-dusted stallion inquired. What did Mauja make her afraid of? Perhaps someone might condemn him for not focusing more on her wounds, but Ophelia had rejected a healer. He would respect her wishes for now since he found her in no danger of death. She was speaking, so he would speak with her. If these would be some of the last moments he could enjoy close to her, then he would enjoy them. If his heart proved him a damned fool once more, then he would take his allotted pleasures and move on. But for now, she needed him and he would be there for her. @[Ophelia] ---------------------------------------------- OOC: It's impressive, how insecure he is. >.> "talk talk talk"  |
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No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Pixel by: Tamme :D
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