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11-03-2015, 01:05 PM
Tembovu
He catches the tail end of Erthe demanding Elsa probe she’s a General. His brows raise, for he had not know that Elsa held such a reputable rank in the Edge. He smiles as the growing filly pushes her small body against his. His thick, hot hide twitches in response to the coolness of hers— is she impervious to the heat of Tallsun?
Turning his great head, he playfully ruffles her curly mane with his muzzle. He frowns at her admitting to letting it heal on its own, “Yes, find a healer sooner rather than later. It’s silly to let bones heal haphazardly when we have not one, but two Moon Doctors.” His rumbling voice is firm and nonnegotiable about the well-being of his little friend. He was growing incredibly fond of the filly, her pertness, and her curiosity.
He swings his attention to his General, as she speaks of worrying after Erthe instead of herself. His head cocks to the side at her cryptic words, spoke from a mask that let no emotion through. Such masks were worn to hide pain, fear, or any number of negative emotions. Dark blue eyes lighten with ill-concerned worry, despite her words. “Sometimes it does not matter if you’ve found what you’ve been searching for,” he says quietly, “Instead, it matters what you’ve discovered along the way.” He is generally not one to give adages to broken beings— for he had not wanted them when his soul had been broken— but he felt some need to offer these slightly comforting words to Elsa. Perhaps it was her gaunt gaze and hopeless mask.
Though it is plain that the General did not want to speak of her time outside Helovia, he finds Erthe’s cheeky voice prying Elsa for information. His brows raise and pinch together at her bratty words, as he takes a step away from the filly to fully look at her. “Erthe, do you think it’s very clever to mouth off to your herd’s General?” He had thought highly of the little one, despite (or because of) her propensity for sass. But there was a time and a place for audaciousness. This was neither.
Turning his great head, he playfully ruffles her curly mane with his muzzle. He frowns at her admitting to letting it heal on its own, “Yes, find a healer sooner rather than later. It’s silly to let bones heal haphazardly when we have not one, but two Moon Doctors.” His rumbling voice is firm and nonnegotiable about the well-being of his little friend. He was growing incredibly fond of the filly, her pertness, and her curiosity.
He swings his attention to his General, as she speaks of worrying after Erthe instead of herself. His head cocks to the side at her cryptic words, spoke from a mask that let no emotion through. Such masks were worn to hide pain, fear, or any number of negative emotions. Dark blue eyes lighten with ill-concerned worry, despite her words. “Sometimes it does not matter if you’ve found what you’ve been searching for,” he says quietly, “Instead, it matters what you’ve discovered along the way.” He is generally not one to give adages to broken beings— for he had not wanted them when his soul had been broken— but he felt some need to offer these slightly comforting words to Elsa. Perhaps it was her gaunt gaze and hopeless mask.
Though it is plain that the General did not want to speak of her time outside Helovia, he finds Erthe’s cheeky voice prying Elsa for information. His brows raise and pinch together at her bratty words, as he takes a step away from the filly to fully look at her. “Erthe, do you think it’s very clever to mouth off to your herd’s General?” He had thought highly of the little one, despite (or because of) her propensity for sass. But there was a time and a place for audaciousness. This was neither.
There's a burning star to lead your father home,
He'll travel from afar, no matter where you roam.
Rest your angry heart, little one, don't you cry,
Soon you'll see him come across the bending, bleeding sky.
He'll travel from afar, no matter where you roam.
Rest your angry heart, little one, don't you cry,
Soon you'll see him come across the bending, bleeding sky.
Please tag Tembovu.
