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08-13-2015, 10:59 PM
He supposed it was a little too much fun for poor Ashamin. Golden hark again lifted to him as he heard the paint waver in the snow. He only earned a glance when the noise of a spark crackled in the air. The gold, his eyes sharp but curious flicked to the paint’s long tail, but then immediately back. Caleb’s answers were far too entertaining for him to think of the meek paint now.
A grin rose visibly on the golden’s face, curling on top of itself. His eyes began to reveal more and more, a spark with entertainment and enjoyment. The black bird had an attitude, which in another place, another time might have brought him a little more than he could handle. But the golden was in a strangely good mood. They were so rare after the first of the season….
Still the answer was slightly concerning. It never really gave him the answer he wanted. Not to mention his attitude was….rebellious. What would happen when it came under pressure to obey. The war tables were not just about giving orders. They must also be obeyed. A great force was filling the black bird as he puffed his answers proudly. He was not scared. If he was not, he was an idiot. In order to be brave you must know what you face, including the terrifying features. Clearly the youth had much to learn. Yet while the answers were not as he liked, and left more questions than answers, the golden found himself humored. It was a long time since they had had one this high strung here. He liked it.
A short haunty laugh echoes after an exhale, before Ashamin cuts the golden short. Now the golden is done with these interruptions. The paint was too involved. Too up close. Head jerks up and to the paint, with harks leaned back and the good mood vanishing for a second. What silly little speech did he have now? But after his first few words the golden drew back again, his harks lifted back up and his mood calmed. He looked from one to the other, watching, listening. It seems perhaps alright, but one might wonder….was this good mood really that fragile? How thin was its crust before you came to the sticky black tar of his frustrations, anger, and depression.
He was a pompous arrogant youth, who knew not what to fear, and not when to stop. Yet, the golden found himself smiling to look upon him. He was strong, determined, and willing to fight for a place in this cold hard landscape. Not many of those come along everyday. Thoughts of spars and birds clicked. And he remembered a little upcoming event on his calendar. It sent him into a whirl of thrill. Yes, this was turning out to be a very good mood. Caleb’s last line sent the golden into a laughter. It was deep and pure, nearly dark. “Steady Caleb.” He commanded, lifting his head back up. “You misunderstand.” The gold moved now, coming closer to the black bird. He now only a few meters away.
The golden inhaled slowly, as unnoticeably as he could. Gears turned within him, and clicked, locking it in. Beautiful. “You do not need to prove yourself to me,” He grins now finally turning to Ashamin with the same friendly face the poor unicorn knew. “though I am loathe to stop a show. Ashamin did well to choose you.” He looks back to the black bird. “I accept you, as you are, though others may not and they, youth, deserve your fear.” Youth was spit in a more commanding, bitter tone, letting on a warning of what the gold thought of his attitude, yet the rest was light. The golden pulls back now, his steps moving back and head rising. “If you need me to explain it to them, you need only call.” Because that is one show the golden would not miss. To see those heartless old towers eat their words. To crush them below the powers. That would be a fine day. Well, if the mood suited him that is. If not, he might just sit back and watch. That would be fun too.
The golden turned to the valley. A grin upon his face broad and bold. “Just try not to freeze till then.” A warm gaze finally found its way to the poor tortured paint. The golden nodded to the Haruspex, short and half stopped by his turn away. Through the snow the golden moves back down the other side of the hill, slipping back into the shadows of early morning, where he can think more. More on this head strong youth. More on the laws of the land. So much to think over, so little time.
OOC :: It was fun! =D
Wardrobe: Wolf Cape, Circlet
Identities: Cashmere, Caleb
"speech"
Posting Poetics
@Ashamin @Caleb
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
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