| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
03-19-2013, 01:51 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-19-2013, 01:54 AM by Murdock.)
Now alone, Murdock finally had time to ponder the events that had passed in the previous days. He couldn’t decide whether this solitude was a blessing or a curse, but he knew that the reality of the Grey’s actions would come crashing down upon him sooner or later. He didn’t regret what they had done; he was content with their decision to invade the Foothills to find a home for their expanding numbers. What he couldn’t come to terms with was the brutality of battle that had been all but forgotten by the black stallion in the months since his final days at home. Perhaps it was not a surprise that he was finally falling apart, after his mind had been left shattered by his days in captivity and the pieces had remained tied together by a delicate thread.
His peaceful thought was suddenly disturbed by the most unpleasant sensation of eyes upon his back. A growing sense of unease took root in his heart as he felt as though he was being watched, and not just by the trees that stood around him in council with one another. His body turned slowly, emerald eyes meeting those of brilliant magenta as his gaze rested upon a buckskin mare. She was indeed a sight for sore eyes, and despite the overwhelming sense of despair that had settled within his chest he managed to find the energy to smile weakly at her. Ever so slightly his head dipped in greeting, his muscles remaining taught with the precaution that she might not be as harmless as she appeared.
He held her gentle gaze for a moment longer as she approached, stepping quietly so as not to unhinge the stallion further. He wondered whether or not she had been watching for long and if perhaps she had caught him speaking to the tree. His side brushed against the rough skin of the oak as he shifted his weight, chest rising as he breathed in the damp air to soothe his aching muscles. Rain would soon fall upon the lively green plains of the Foothills, and Murdock only hoped the disgusting droplets would not manage to penetrate the sparse canopy overhead.
Unsure of how to react to the unfamiliar mare, he allowed her to speak first, her voice falling soft and gentle upon his ears. At once he relaxed, watching her lavender gaze stray to the ugly wound upon his shoulder. He held her hallowed gaze for a moment longer, his expression remaining one of seriousness despite the abstract tendencies of his mind that willed his stony features to break in the tense silence. “That has never satisfactorily been determined.” Came his reply, his voice betraying the ruggedness of his exterior as a soft chuckle followed his words. Of course she had been referring to the weeping wound he wore upon his left shoulder, but his mind was a much more fascinating subject and he tended to bring it up as often as he could. Call him arrogant or self centered, but was it not natural to be proud of one’s uniqueness? “Just a mere flesh wound. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” His smile was guarded but sincere, his head dipping down toward the stranger in a show of gratitude for her concern.
The little mare smelled strongly of the Foothills, though he couldn’t say he had seen her before. Her quiet introduction struck uncomfortable realization into his heart, and at once he became unsure of himself. She was of the Grey now. That meant their factions had fought against each other a mere matter of days ago. Would the tension be forgotten? Would she blame him for her loss? He tipped his head slightly as he watched her, his face a mask of curiosity despite the uneasiness he felt. She was part of his unit now, surely all would be forgiven.
“Murdock. Executioner of the Grey.” He responded mechanically, his left wings sweeping forward lightly as if in a bow; however, he halted the action immediately as the movement pulled against his wound. A grimace replaced the tentative smile that had momentarily pulled at his dark lips, and instead he dipped his head to her in greeting. “Lovely weather, hmm? Do you like the rain?” His chin tilted downward curiously, studying the intricate markings that stretched across Ailith’s buttermilk canvas. She was a diamond in the rough, and right now a little sane company was just what the stallion needed. “Can’t say I’m a fan of it, myself. However,” his words trailed off as his gaze strayed across the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the vibrant greens that filled the land with life “it brings life to our home and beauty to the land.” A thoughtful smile curled at his lips as he watched her, his mind sobered by her presence and soothed by the cool breath of wind.
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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