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Her disbelieving snort at his first words brought a tick in his jaw and a flex of his neck. Outright insubordination was punishable in Dorobo, within the Banderi. He had ground many young, hot-headed colts into the red earth, teaching them the wisdom of holding their tongues. His chest twitched once— he could not bring this Moon Doctor to obedience that way. And it was not obedience he wanted. It was— what? Was it respect? He was eons away from having that, he knew. Was it favor? Most likely not, for he knew her favor was unattainable, now. Perhaps it was that he wished she simply didn’t know of his weakness, of his loss of control.
A harsh snort pushed past his nostrils as she continued to speak, venom beginning to infuse her words. “Are you ordering me, my king, to smile and bat my eyelashes at you when there are others around? To fawn over you like all the others?” Anger flashed in his chest at her open instigations, catching fire to the kindling she had laid with her disgusted snorts and dismissive looks. It flared to a flame— but luckily (thankfully) the icy binds of fear still kept his raging, molten elephant locked deep inside his ribs.
Contrarily, and unfortunately, this control over his raging magic let him lose control. He gave into the anger that, before, left him filled with cold dread and anguish. But now, after many cold sweats above the cliffs hurling raging elephants over the cliffs, he had control. It wasn’t perfect (trumpets still echoed in his skull), but it was there.
So he surged towards the black and white beauty, “I disgust you, Alysanne?” the words were a growl, ears pinned flush with his skull and eyes flashing, “I do not handle criticism? Tell me who it was that drove a wounded man to his knees when he criticized her for not healing herself, refusing his request she do so? Tell me, good Doctor, who is flinging spiteful words in my face because I offered an honest, if critical, opinion on her behavior?” His nostrils flared, his jaw clenched between sentences, his flashing cobalt eyes stared down at her from his great height. “Your personal dislike bleeds into politics? The Edge is trading with the Throat to strengthen our borders, and we are allied with the Basin to further dissuade any who would cause us harm. Our numbers swell and foals flourish within our herd. Tell me, what part of that do you dislike?” His body, so usually held in check, was uncontrolled because his mind was uninhibited by the fear of unleashing his beast upon her. And there was something about her defiance, about her barbed words and glaring green eyes, that drove him to fury.
“I assure you, I am having a bad day,” he leaned into her, now, anger rolling from his massive, hard body in palpable waves, “But do you see flames?”
A harsh snort pushed past his nostrils as she continued to speak, venom beginning to infuse her words. “Are you ordering me, my king, to smile and bat my eyelashes at you when there are others around? To fawn over you like all the others?” Anger flashed in his chest at her open instigations, catching fire to the kindling she had laid with her disgusted snorts and dismissive looks. It flared to a flame— but luckily (thankfully) the icy binds of fear still kept his raging, molten elephant locked deep inside his ribs.
Contrarily, and unfortunately, this control over his raging magic let him lose control. He gave into the anger that, before, left him filled with cold dread and anguish. But now, after many cold sweats above the cliffs hurling raging elephants over the cliffs, he had control. It wasn’t perfect (trumpets still echoed in his skull), but it was there.
So he surged towards the black and white beauty, “I disgust you, Alysanne?” the words were a growl, ears pinned flush with his skull and eyes flashing, “I do not handle criticism? Tell me who it was that drove a wounded man to his knees when he criticized her for not healing herself, refusing his request she do so? Tell me, good Doctor, who is flinging spiteful words in my face because I offered an honest, if critical, opinion on her behavior?” His nostrils flared, his jaw clenched between sentences, his flashing cobalt eyes stared down at her from his great height. “Your personal dislike bleeds into politics? The Edge is trading with the Throat to strengthen our borders, and we are allied with the Basin to further dissuade any who would cause us harm. Our numbers swell and foals flourish within our herd. Tell me, what part of that do you dislike?” His body, so usually held in check, was uncontrolled because his mind was uninhibited by the fear of unleashing his beast upon her. And there was something about her defiance, about her barbed words and glaring green eyes, that drove him to fury.
“I assure you, I am having a bad day,” he leaned into her, now, anger rolling from his massive, hard body in palpable waves, “But do you see flames?”
He paid for his sins. He was saved.
But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.
@Alysanne BOOM.
Please tag Tembovu.
