| World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Bunnie |
D R A G O M I R
just pretend that you want me & be my baby, be my baby
She spoke of honor, of family, the words meshing with the weave of Dragomir's soul completely enough to allow the slight of this mare's company at this World's Edge to wash away, feeling again a connection to the black mare for reasons he could not decipher; it was perhaps that he had been alone too long, homesick and weary, but there was also the chance that Mirage and Akaith were interwoven with his fate in a way that he could not yet glean from such a young age. He knew, though, that the words that followed were true, an inescapable fact of choosing to live within the lands beyond this forest. He began to mull over her assurance that he would see the strength of the earth children in the build of the keepers of Helovia, unable to comprehend what she meant by looking with one's soul and thus choosing to ponder the things he might understand without being forced to walk down that particular trail of life. He didn't notice her step forward, so preoccupied were his thoughts and comfortable his mind around the ebony femme and her bonded dragon, his head alive with the tales of Aarde and the first horses, images of his proud and regal parents surrounded by the dragons of the isle. He felt their honor in every mental glimpse, but when his brain strayed to that of the tri-beings that watched over the land here, he found himself unable to picture the natural and solemn power of his people.
He was brought back to the forest by a smooth caress upon his face, just above his eye, and he found himself enveloped in a warm, rushing sensation, his heart seeming to rise out of his skin in a million pieces, pulling all at once toward the place where his chocolate coat had met the golden scales of Akaith. He felt her heart, fluttering faster than his, deep in the sweep of the temporary bond, and while her emotions were shielded by some strange current, it was similar to when Israfel had come to examine a wound Dragomir had inflicted while climbing a collection of boulders along the beach, about nine months into his life, and so he did not recoil or flinch as the sensations swept through him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, wondering if it was possible that his strangeness to the dragon had shielded the connection in some way or if the murkiness of the bond was related in some way to the lack of a moon and the mid-afternoon sunset he had encountered on his way here. There wasn't enough time to thoroughly think about it, however, as Mirage's voice continued to draw the attention of his ears; an invitation.
This raised his curiosity to another level, the young stallion having believed his prior words would have made the black mare decide he was not the proper material for her fold of various breeds; she had made it quite clear that her own opinions did not match his own, and that she thought him to be foolish for believing so. Perhaps he was; his mother had always believed that others were only to be judged by their actions, and while she had softened the hard shell of racism that had been baking in the sun around the painted colt from birth, she had not done away with it entirely. "I..." will not go, he wanted to say, but the smiling face of his mother stopped him in his tracks, the remnant hums of the dragon's contact with his skin working in harmony with the mental painting to trap his voice within his throat, an ear falling back in a partial tilt as a tumble of emotions ushered through him. Would he be standing here today if Requiem had not followed her guide home, to the Valley? For some reason, he did not think so, and he certainly had not traveled so many miles to rest under a tree for the rest of his years. "I will accept your offer." The pale light from the orbs spilled across his face as he turned to search the sharp features of the golden dragon, wondering if he was making a mistake or taking his first steps towards his fate by following this one and her ebony mare back to the World's Edge, but took comfort, momentarily, in that he had been offered a home at all, and the sincerity he had felt in the dragon's touch.
 |
|
Wishlist | Table Tracker
Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
