Now why the wicked glee could not continue in its blissful innocence of being without a viewer the gold would never understand. Turning back to shore to kick out at the waves and watch as they scatter in silence, a copper spark lights up in the dark. Golden body stills and harks lean forward. Not exactly the usual reaction of grump and grumble. Even the thought of company could not nip all of his tingling nerves as they reveled in wickedness. The form was moving closer, and it seemed its maker was determined to call off the golden’s fun in the waves. Pity. As it came to stop at the edge of the waves the gold, in a most cruel fashion, made the copper man wait. He had recognized that stallion, and did not see fit to give him the benefit of an awkward-less conversation.

A voice cuts through and the golden head turns back to the shore, white locks tossing against his neck. Earth eyes considering that man with all the weight it could manage under such continued celebrations. To its displeasure, Haldir did not hold that kind of reserve. The dark fawn, with eyes white in the night jogging his lean legs from the ocean to come up with a grin and a tail wag to the new creature. Shaking off his sea salt coat the babe tilts his head as he considers the new creature. Small white stripped nose moves continuously as he sniffs out the sensitivities of this new thing. He wasn’t sure he liked this man or not, to be sure he was a lovely creature, but, as always, the most important question was, would he play? With his piddling at the edge of the shore it seemed unlikely.

The golden, glad his charge wasn’t at least leaping about like an idiot, rose from the water and stepped towards the shore in all the calmness he could manage. “Roland.” Came the off handed name. It wasn’t the gold hated the copper man. No, in fact he actually found the man’s apparent lack of skill, but ability to hold his rank, amusing. True he won their little duel, but there was certainly no way the man could compete. (According to the golden’s style of spying that is, most certainly Roland, like them all, earned his position.) Shaking out his golden coat, sending out droplets of salt and water spraying in the night, and not caring if it got on his guest the golden looks down to the fawn at the question. “Haldir.” It was short and to the point. Mind rolled over and began to roll out of his old thoughts. Perhaps the copper man actually had done something of interest lately. So the golden poses the question. “So what’s new?”



OOC ::@[Roland]
Identity Index:: Cashmere, Destry
"Speech"