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02-18-2013, 02:48 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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When she answers his question, she seems to have calmed, and he can see the grace and true beauty that she must have held, once. Of course, he is stunned by her even now, but there is a certain lightness in that movement that draws him closer still, and though he is loathe to scare her off, he cannot help but brush his maw against her long, flowing banner as she pulls away, losing himself momentarily in her scent, in the silken feel of her. He almost steps forward, following her movement, longing to be closer to her, but stops himself, opens his violet eyes to gaze adoringly at her as she speaks of a youngling in the Foothills herd. Who is he becoming? Once he would have cursed himself for allowing such a feeling to exist within him, much less emanate from his orbs, showing the world is true feelings. And now he finds himself thinking that he wants to stay with her, to be with her, to protect her and hers - even if that means a filly. He has never given much thought to foals, never considered the possibility of being a father figure, though he surely must have sired his share of foals over the years. How many half-princes wandered his kingdom now? How many mothers had he created? And how had he not cared? For as Resplendence spoke of a young, scared flicka, he felt the need to protect them both, if she wanted him to. He felt the need to gather them, to fight for them, to keep them safe. Who am I? he wondered vaguely, bemused - but the thought was quickly removed from his mind as it whirred ever onward, ever forward. She jumps, and he takes a step forward, protective. He looks down, studies the flower. Maw lowers slowly, gently plucking the flower from the ground, offering it to the fae, an adornment for those lovely locks. Should she permit, he will place it into her mane. A sudden thought strikes him, and his words are passionate, impulsive. "Stay with me," he says, and his words are almost pleading. "I can protect you, my lady. You won't need to worry about being lost, or alone, or abandoned... I can keep you safe, I swear it. And the filly that you speak of, I can help you with her as well, I can do whatever you need." A deep breath is taken, nerves calmed. "Just... think about it, Lady Resplendence. Consider my offer. Please?" His look is open, honest, bare to the soul, something that he has never been to anyone. Who am I? |
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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!
