.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
07-31-2016, 01:16 AM
She whirls — and Caneo recognizes that. He wishes he didn't. He wishes the child still lingering on in the back of his mind didn't prick its ears and think, Oh, in that sad voice the boy always thinks in. I'm sorry. But Caneo is not; he refuses to feel sympathy for what he so clearly understands as fear. Because he was that fearful once. He was never so obvious (lying the first skill the child learned) but he was. He had refused even to set foot in the Threshold that first day, enticed only by the promise of food and of shelter, by the warm kindness in Roland's voice. Caneo is not kind. He says nothing to soothe. He blinks at her as if she hasn't just overreacted to his presence. And when she speaks, one of his ears twitches. She misunderstands the story; stories bruise under such rough handling, such literal interpretation. "I didn't say he died," the stallion quips, as if her understanding of the story is the strange thing. He snorts, very quietly, at once disapproving and amused. It's the sort of thing one might do if a child gives a ridiculous answer to a simple question. And though he isn't interested, particularly, in making himself less threatening (how does he inspire fear, again?) Caneo cocks a hip and watches her, his posture as at ease as it ever is, even if the ear farthest from the girl twitches now and then to catch sounds at his back. Even if one eye is always watching the world around them. Now, she asks a question. Now, Caneo ought to bite his tongue, but she walks right into these things... "Good question!" he chirps. "How do you know I'm alive?" He glances over his shoulder as the tiny knot of scales on his withers twitches, irritated by the intricate circles he makes with words. She is a straightforward creature, most of the time. A patient creature, but one prone to striking in a straight line. Her blunt snout pushes up into the air and her tongue flickers out, grumpy, as some sort of interpretation wavers between them. He doesn't read her very well, all the time, but he knows she smells blood beating under the skin of this girl, and he supposes the point is straightforward enough. "My friend says you're alive,"Caneo points out. "What brings you up here?" He could, of course, tell her he was hunting frogs, but what is the fun in that? Caneo... |
@Sabia
* violence & magic use always permitted *
Do not tag Caneo unless you are starting a new thread you would like me to see! Thank you!
