Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
| Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT |
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Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit
Bunnie |
sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:
She’s sweet in response to my fire, which, honestly, makes it rise further, with an audible crackle in the sound of an annoyed groan as my eyes roll. Duir, delighted to be complemented, smiles in his deer-like way, tail fluttering behind him swiftly. Looking back at me with his green eyes vibrant, he mentally notes.
Like her, in such a fashion that it is wreathed in the smell of pine needles and snow, symbolic of how he likes the Basin; pretty but cold, glittering and serene.
You would, I retort, looking back at the star-strewn mare with a sidelong glance that retains every ounce of my bratty nature. She wants knowledge, at least, which is well enough; for a while there, it seemed like people were coming out of the wood work to kick my ass. It’s been a while since I’ve been attacked for no logical reason, whatsoever, and I’m glad that, for now, at least, my good behavior continues to pay out in conversation, rather than battle.
Of course, my behavior is also starting to border on less than well mannered…
"No one we don’t see," I remark, because its probably true; many of our warriors patrol enough to not get proper rest, me not included. The full embodiment of annoyance here has nothing to do with lack of sleep. "Few of them are the faces you remember, would be my guess. They’ve flocked elsewhere."
Like the sheep they are, too craven to feel at home among the wolves of the north. I let the silence grow between us, watching as she casually rests her figure so that her hips become curves, her shoulders sloping and graceful. What she sees is age; she may forget that with age comes other impulses, and they lure my eyes to these soft angles of her body, when I think I can steal a glance without rousing her outrage.
Some women, they get really mad when you look at them for too long.
"Well, they didn’t like the idea much at all," I explain, recalling Wessex’s face most poignantly of all, with the first genuine smirk that has crossed my lips since this encounter’s began, "sorta had to go with it, what with it writ in the sky and all. It means nothing now, of course."
I don’t talk about Him, the one who put the words there, because fuck Him. He’s no better than mother, than any of those cretins who’d been there, that night we’d crept out to hold a secret meeting in the depths of shadow; all of them who turned their backs to the peaks and walked away, leaving behind everything they’d promised to protect and uphold.
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sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.
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Image by TheArtlex@DA
@Ki'irha
Wishlist - Plots
Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).
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