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BARTHOLOMEO
He seeks an escape. Aelfwine's defection to the Dragon's Throat has left him cold and empty, hurt by the knowledge that his own sister would rather spend her time with a stallion she hardly even knows than with him. Bartholomeo hadn't thought that he would be so wounded by such a thing, yet he's finally found himself a home to love in the form of the World's Edge and he'd been happy in the knowledge that his family would exist there for years to come. Alas, Aelfwine had other ideas, and the pirate's been left to wander sulkily around his home, planning a thousand painful deaths on the man who stole her from him. He should keep himself busy, he supposes. Moping around will help nobody, and there's plenty to do now that the herd has its quest. He's lurking outside the Edge, grazing lazily in the Tallsun heat whilst his docked tail does its utmost to prevent the flies from persecuting his flanks, when he sees a familiar form walking past. "Lyanna!" comes his hearty greeting, deciding in a split second to throw his bad mood aside and join the winged mare on her trek to wherever she may be going. She's an intriguing one, is Lyanna. In truth, the stag has grown rather fond of her, although it may be too soon to consider her a friend when the height of their relationship has been her removing bones from his antlers. She seems like a good woman, though, and now he doesn't have Aelfwine anymore, Bart needs to spend more time with the other members of his herd else he risk being as lonely as he was when he was an outcast. He breaks into a trot, his muscular, tattooed limbs easily bringing him into step with Lyanna. "Mind if I join you?" He offers her his finest, toothiest smile, before it fades into a grimace as yet another fly decides to sink its hideous proboscis into his underbelly. He lifts a hind hoof and smacks it at his stomach, but the fly simply moves an inch to the side and proceeds to continue its snack. "The flies might leave me alone if I keep walking. Argh, the woes of a short tail!" Despite his insect-related suffering, there's warmth and good humour in the pirate's eyes and voice, his bad mood easily hidden beneath his well-worn mask of joviality. if my lungs collapse and my heart turns black i'll give my ashes to the coast |
@Lyanna
