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01-21-2013, 12:44 AM
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The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.
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Oh, the formalities. On the one hoof, he exults that he has finally found someone with the proper manners; on the other, it reminds him horribly of home. Home. It is a foreign concept these days. He had a home, once, but now that it is destroyed, he cannot say that he wants one. It cannot replace what has been lost. He cannot resurrect his family, he cannot rename himself a prince... the list of things he cannot do goes on and one, really. He finds it rare, these days, that he has a moment to consider all the things he can do. It would seem that his skills of flirtation and trickery are not so uncommon here as to warrant him useful. And so he wanders, seeking... what, exactly? He is pleased to hear that she is settling into the Foothills, though he suspects that there is more to her feelings for her new home than meet the eye. She had taken pause, you see, closed those orbs - he smiled slightly, for surely she was growing to trust him if she dared lose her vision, if but for a moment - and shaken her head, as though clearing her thoughts. He longed to ask why, wanted to know what was wrong, but again he remained silent. Sometimes when you press too hard, you end up simply pushing the other away. And he did not want that. She asks a odd question then, and he tilts his head slightly to one side. "The Wind has proven to be more fickle than any mare, my lady, but she has been treating us all well of late, I believe." He speaks wryly, a grin tugging at the corners of his maw. It is a joke, of course, and he rather hopes that she will laugh. He wonders what her laugh sounds like, if it compliments her beauty. She has taken several steps closer, though they are hesitant, and almost without realizing it he leans ever-so-slightly in her direction, wishing he could close the gap even more. He even reaches slightly, stretching his nape; then, realizing that he has moved, he pulls back, settles once more, leaning his weight backwards. Don't spook, he prayed, waiting for the reaction that he expected would come. |
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[W/C | ---] |
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Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
