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He doesn't understand.
He doesn't understand.
She is a closed book, a spaghetti tangle of words and actions that addle his brain and twist him into knots. Why can she not speak openly? He has no time for riddles, for webs made of lies and serpent-tongued devils. He is a great believer in saying what you think, and having no shame in it. The tears that pour down her face - are they lies, too? He doesn't know, and frustation bids his ears to slam backwards and his massive forehoof to stamp hard against the loam beneath their feet.
Their conversation had seemed to innocent, a far cry from the tempestous tempers and roiling rage of their previous meeting. He hoped that she would be happy for him finding and protecting the golden egg, that she would want to be part of this next exciting chapter in his life. Instead, she's tied him into a knot of confusion and misery, and he doesn't even know how to begin untangling it. She's open to him, and he likes to think that the Nymeria stood before him is his real twin, in all her beautiful glory. But he can't know for certain. He can't know anything for certain, when one errant word can cause her to turn against him so easily.
Maybe I should just go. "Why?" The petulant word spews forth from his lips like bile, his eyes narrowing and gaze fixing on her. "For fuck's sake, Nym, what's going on? You know you can tell me. You can tell me anything." He implores her with his gaze, with his big, open face like a moon, with the confusion and pain that's etched into every line. How can he fix her, when he doesn't know what he's accidentally broken?
@Nymeria
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
