the Rift


[PRIVATE] you'll be in my heart [Resplendence]

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#1

The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.

"Come, my lady," he tells her, gently guiding her with the wing he holds draped over her shoulder. "Let us find a place to rest." His vocals are gentle, adoring, for despite the branch-dagger she has shoved in the knot of her tail and the rather rugged appearance of the rest of her, she is utterly beautiful in his eyes. If anything, her sudden fighting spirit amuses him greatly, although he is extremely displeased with her injuries. She is dejected, he can see that, greatly shaken by the hell that she has been put through for the second time. At least this time, she was on the winning side.

He is desperate to cheer her, for he has not done much else today, and so he tugs gently on her mane before saying, "Your warrior look is very becoming." His tone is teasing, but there is something altogether serious in his gaze. His muzzle traces a line along her nape until his breath blows gently against her cheek. I love you, he almost says, and draws a breath to say it - but it catches in his throat, and he simply expels the breath, wondering if she will have noticed. He pulls his maw away, clearing his throat slightly awkwardly, settling instead on merely drawing her closer still with his wing.

Zarina is still curled sweetly in her banner; her fingers still clutch the gift which Quilyan had intended to present his lover with. He catches a glimpse, a shimmer, and he draws to a halt. "Resplendence," he murmurs, and in his voice her name is a caress. "I... have something for you." Zarina holds out a hand, and he takes the necklace from her, showing her the locket; the marmoset then takes it back, so that she might tie it around the mare's neck, with permission. "I was not here to protect you today. I am so sorry, my lady, I should have been here." His violet gaze bores into hers. "I left to get this gift for you. This locket is tied to another necklace; when you are troubled or in danger, my key will grow warm, and I will know that you need me. I left you alone today; it will not happen again." He almost says it again, those three little words; again, he holds them back, for fear of running her off.

Zarina chirps softly, waiting to adorn the fae with Quilyan's present; the prince himself waits anxiously, his heart hammering against his chest, for this moment shows her dedication to him. Her acceptance has somehow become symbolic of her love for him; it is everything.

@[Resplendence]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.


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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.

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Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
#2

Resplendence</style>

FROM THE SCRAPES AND BRUISES
TO THE FAMILIAR ABUSES
I'LL KICK AND SCREAM BUT IT NEVER CHANGES ANYTHING



She was distraught. She was broken. But the herbs she had found a bit earlier were definitely beginning to numb a little of the searing pain in her shoulder. She was staying close to Quil. She didn't want to be alone. She didn't want that winged creature to find her again. And, if that winged one did she didn't want to be left to her own will to protect herself with a very injured shoulder.

His wing was draped over her shoulder as he guided her mindless body. A place to rest. God. Can't it be right here? Can't she just lay down and rest? But no. They need to get closer to wherever it is that Smoke has gathered to attempt to begin her healing. He's being gentle. He's being careful. She knows it. He's afraid the wrong tone of voice will make her run. And, really, she doesn't know what the wrong tone of voice would make her do. Would she grab the dagger and attempt to use it as a horn - just like the mechanical one who had killed Rowan? Would she shuffle backwards and break down in tears? Would she simply high tail it the other direction until she had found Kaj, or Smoke, or maybe even Mirage?

That was when a gentle tug pulled her out of her thoughts of where her brain even was. His honey-like chords reaching her audit as she listens to his teasing words. It is his serious gaze that keeps her from breaking down completely. "I'm not meant to fight..." she choked out, her legs still moving as she limped forward. Her right side leaning ever so slightly against left in order to keep herself from falling over when her left leg decides it doesn't feel like bearing the weight necessary. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, moving only as she feels his frame move. And, as he traces a line across her nape he blows gently on her cheek. A breath is drawn in and then suddenly exhaled, as if the words he was going to say somehow got caught in his throat. Instinctively her orbs open. Golden sight falls on him as he pulls himself away, clearing his throat. He was going to say something, but the feeling of being pulled closer to his side stops her from questioning exactly what that is.

She feels his frame slow to a halt and she stops by rocking back onto her haunches so that she might bear the weight in a stronger area of her bodice. A wince of pain shudders through her as she places her left fore down completely before resting her weight on the other three legs. Her shoulder screaming in agony only to have it dull a bit more because of the herbs in her system. She can feel the consistent breathing of the little marmoset as she curls up in her mane before she glances up toward Quil with the vocalization of her name. He stumbles over a few words before reaching into her banner where Zarina is and snagging a pendant. Res's eyes widen. "What... Quil... I..." She says, confusion in her gaze as she peers between the young marmoset and the tall, protective stag before her. He gently allows Zarina to take the locket back as Res turns her head to watch as the marmoset opens it as if she was going to attach it around the mare's neck.

He speaks again. His voice torn. Obviously he was blaming himself for the state that she was in. Claiming that he should have been here. But he had not known. It was not his fault. He explained his absence. He explained how he left to get this pendant and how it was tied to another one. How if she was in trouble, anxious, in danger it would grow warm so that he knew she needed him. Again. He blamed himself. And again. Those feelings were radiating in her gut. Those feelings of betrayal for the stag who had given her a family. For the stag who had fought - and died - to try and protect the three of them. But how long had it been since she'd felt safe with someone else? How long had it been since someone she had just really begun to know caused her to scream out with his pain? How long had it been since she had been searching for this one stag - for Quil? Quil was starting to replace Ciro. It sickened her. But at the same time it healed her. Was it a betrayal? It sure as hell felt like one. But would Ciro really want her to be alone the rest of her life? He would want her safe. He would want her happy. Could he have allowed his soul to come back and tug her toward Quil for that exact purpose? To make sure that she actually had a chance to heal from all the terrors that had swum through her vision and broken her down. All the terrors that had stepped on her heart and broken the glass past the point that she believed it could be put back together?

"It's not your fault. You didn't know..." She whispered, after a few moments of silence. The struggle to understand evident in her orbs. The struggle to place her own emotions. Ciro would want to let you love again... Tears bored into her orbs as she let out a small sniffle. "Thank you... for getting me this..." she whispered, voice a little taut as she fought to keep herself from breaking down and sobbing with the image of Ciro, the twins, and Rowan all bleeding out before her. She had lost them all. They would all want her to be happy. They would all want her to be able to open up her heart to love again. Perhaps... perhaps Quil was the one she could allow herself to do it. "I... I love it, Quil..." she whispered. Her mind edging her closer and closer to the real sentence: I love you. But she couldn't quite say it. "I don't... I don't know what I'd do without you..."

You love him. Admit it.... She could hear Ciro in her head. His voice was sweet. It was understanding. But she was almost certain it was simply a side effect of the herbs she had taken for the pain. Her frame was trembling. Trembling from the anxiety of her emotions bubbling up and accepting it before her mind could even wrap itself around the answer. She loved him. Her mouth opened as she felt her breath get caught in her throat. "I... Quil... I lo-" but she couldn't finish it. A sob caught in her throat as the tears flooded her vision. She loved him. But her mind insisted it was a betrayal to everything Ciro and her had stood for. She shook her head violently, shifting her weight just enough to end up putting too much of her frame on top of her injured shoulder and the sob turned into a yelp of pain. She jumped back onto her other three legs and shot backwards a few steps. Shot backwards into a tree trunk only to realize that she had been the cause of the pain and nothing that was near her.

She looked up at him through broken, tear-blurred eyes, and spoke with a shattered voice. "How can you even want to be around someone like me... I'm so broken... so un... un-fixable..." Her head dropped down, eyes falling shut as she continued to have her chest and barrel heave in time to the sobs. She was broken... broken and useless...

1318 words
@[Quilyan]

When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#3

The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.

His teasing vocals are clearly not the right words, for she merely shakes her head and numbly declines the compliment. He swallows, hard, for he is afraid of making a mistake, of losing her. It has been such a short time - well, no, nearly a year it's been now, hasn't it? Not so short a time, after all - and yet he cares so very deeply for her. He, the flirtatious, unclaimed prince, flitting from mare to mare with never a second thought... he was never meant to love, never meant to fall so hard for someone, and yet... and yet...

He presents the necklace, and Zarina assists, settling in to wait on the mare's withers. There is only silence, and the prince feels his heart drumming against his chest. It feels as though it might beat its way out of his chest; he swallows again, his violet gaze searching, almost pleading. His mouth is dry, he notices, like sandpaper; he wonders if it will affect him when he speaks again. He can see the emotions flickering across her eyes, and for a moment it is as though he can almost see her thoughts. He knows of her past, he knows where she came from, and he knows that she struggles with the remnants of feelings long lost to the endless embrace of death. He is patient - he will wait for her; but it's so damn hard when he can see her love for him in the midst of all of her pain.

She speaks, finally, and the breath that he doesn't realize he's been holding is released with a soft sigh. It's not his fault, she tells him, and he allows her to say it, though he does not believe her. It is his fault. He has watched her grow and blossom within this herd, watched her begin to find friendship here; he took that as a guarantee of her safety, and left her for an afternoon, only to return to find this. It is a hard lesson, it's true, that he cannot leave her side for fear of catastrophe striking, but it is one he is glad to have learned. He will not leave her unprotected again, and so his gift becomes even more useful.

She accepts, and Zarina chitters cheerfully. The marmoset weaves one end of the necklace into Resplendence's mane so that she can scurry beneath the fae's neck and up the other side, using her banner as a ladder. Sitting one more upon Resplendence's shoulders, Zarina latches the two ends of the necklace together, chirping her satisfaction. "You did good," Zarina tells him through the bond with a rush of affection. Well, he corrects her, amusement and relief in the thought. I did well. But it is no more than an errant thought, for he knows he has a long way to go yet.

She thanks him; she loves it. His heart lifts hopefully as she says 'love,' for he wants more than anything for her to love him. For her to admit that she loves him. "Anything for you, my lady," he promises her softly, brushing his muzzle gently over the necklace, then beginning to lip at her neck, gently and soothingly massaging his was to her poll. He hopes that the motion will calm her, will help her to relax so that they might find Smoke and the other healers with her in a state of calm. But she's not done; "I lo-" she starts, but cannot finish, and his motion pauses noticeably, startled at the almost-admission of her affection. And then she was crying, and bolting away, and for a moment he thought he must have pushed her too far, must have done something to upset her, but then he sees her sobbing, quaking beneath the tree that she has unceremoniously backed into, and he understands.

"Resplendence," he begins, stepping confidently closer to her, no longer afraid of scaring her away; his voice is again like a caress as he says her name. "You are beautiful," he whispers. "You are everything to me. Everyone has scars, my lo-lady," he almost said it, almost, why can't he just-? "Yours are just more visible than most. And that makes you who you are, my lady, and I... love who you are." It's not quite saying it, not quite, but it's so close - oh, so close. And he watches her intently, mere inches away from her, calmly and hopefully gazing into her eyes. "I need to be around you."

@[Resplendence]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.


RayoDeSoleil | VenomXBaby | NewdyStock | BurtN | SimplyBackgrounds
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!

Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
#4

Resplendence</style>

FROM THE SCRAPES AND BRUISES
TO THE FAMILIAR ABUSES
I'LL KICK AND SCREAM BUT IT NEVER CHANGES ANYTHING



It's all a haze. Every emotion. Every single memory. It's all combining into one. The herbs only blocking her mind even more. It's becoming a struggle to place where she even is inside all of this mess that is her mind - that is her reality. She can feel him studying her as she fumbles over her thoughts. His eyes taking in all the emotions that flicker straight across her orbs in confusion.

When she finally has managed to sort through enough of her thoughts that her voice can break into the still air she can hear his soft sigh. She can see his chest beginning to expand and compress in time with his breathing again. He doesn't fight her words. Her telling him that it wasn't his fault. But she can see that he doesn't believe them. "Quil... I would have fought anyways..." she struggled to explain. He hadn't seen or heard of her most recent loss. It was more than just Ciro tugging on her broken pieces. It was Rowan too. "I came back... from... from watching another dear one die. The only one who understood the fear of everything. And she died saving me... And I couldn't heal her. I couldn't help her. I fully believed this was when I needed to step up. I... it was my time to die as well... to make up for the shattered existence..." She explained, after the young marmoset had weaved the necklace around so that it sat locked upon her neck.

But, then she thanks him. She says she loves it. She decides to stick to the present that he had given her. He would not understand the strange pull to go and fight - to go and give herself up to be killed if that was what the universe so wanted. Fully believing that she would have at least died for a good cause. Anything for her. A promise off his lips before her brushes his maw up against the necklace, lipping at her neck where the chain rests and then massaging his way toward her poll. It calms her, for a few seconds, but as she continues to struggle with the torrent of emotions she cannot calm. She tries to say she loves him. But her mind stops her. Calling her a betrayer. Asking how dare she love someone else. And so she shifts her weight at the startled movement. Too much weight falling on her leg and shooting a searing pain up into her shoulder.

Tears fall. Her entire bodice bolting backwards into the tree as she blubbers over her own words. Words asking how someone could even dare to care enough about someone so hopelessly shattered. He says her name, and she forces herself to keep her gaze to the ground. She can hear his hooves as they cover the distance quickly. He knows she won't run from him. He knows the only reason she bolted was from some imaginary substance she had believed had caused the pain in her leg only to realize that it was herself inflicting the pain. His voice is not loud. It is not demanding. It is a whisper. It is a place of calm. And while her sobbing continues it does begin to slow down. Beautiful. Everything. Love who I am. Need to be around me... The thoughts circulate her cranium and meld together with past words Ciro had said. She chokes on her breath before she can even get a word out. The anxiety has officially placed her in a state of panic. In a place of fear. A place where she just wants to forget everything that had gone wrong.

Finally, she looked up and with a trembling jaw her voice came back out. "I'm not his Princess anymore..." her entire body shuddered, a massive sob getting caught in her throat as she looked up to the heavens. "My Knight isn't here..." She shook her head violently, letting out another tiny hiss of pain as she shook it too much and pulled on her gash, feeling a bit of the scabbing wound open and a bit more blood trail down the side. "He... he left me Quil..." she cried. The pain from seeing him with wolves ravaging his body taking her over the edge - turning her blame onto him. The blame that had once been nothing more than adoration for his bravery. He was gone. It was all his fault. "He left his Princess. He left her... And he didn't protect the twins..." She couldn't think straight. Between the pain that was pulling on every horrible memory in her mind, the desire to say that she loved him, and the torn emotions she was beginning to ramble on about nonsensical things that no longer even worked on a timeline. It was just... there. She shuffled a few inches closer, wanting to bury her face in his chest only feel the pain as she stepped forward and fall back into the tree, feeling as the dagger located in the knot of her tail stabbed into her hindquarters. She leaped forward and spun around, throwing the dagger from her tail in the jerking motion. And, with the clattering sound she recognized what had opened another wound before jumping to snag it back into her mouth. She wasn't safe. There was no such thing as safe anymore. "My Knight left me. He just... he left. He got himself killed. And now you're here. And I can't say it. I can't betray him. I just. God. Quil..." Her voice shattered as she looked up at him. The pain was evident in her eyes. "I just want to be someone's Princess again..." Her voice choked, breaking up the words and making them almost incoherent. "But I'm too broken to ever be that..."

Useless. Broken. Unlovable. Untouchable. Injured. She was the broken toy left on that back shelf that no one would want to touch. She wouldn't even want to touch it...

1032 words

When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#5

The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.

She would have fought anyways; maybe this is truth, but he dismisses it, for he thinks he could have stopped her. He thinks she would have listened to him, would have hid behind him. He know he could have protected her, given the chance. Fights have not treated him well, it is true; he was horrendously injured in the invasion of the Foothills, and now he has missed this invasion entirely - oh, gods, does she think he can't protect her? Does she think that she is better able to care for herself? Does she think him incapable? He has to fight to keep the sadness and horror from his violet orbs, but he succeeds. This is wrong, this is so very wrong; he is a prince - no, with Father dead, he is a king - and she could be his queen, if she so chose. Was this why she did not love him? Was it because she thought him weak? Incompetent?

She says not, but her admission is almost worse, because she thought to die in the fighting. This time shock does register on his face, and anguish, because the thought of losing her is too much to bear. He was merely left to gape at her, each thought vying for attention, rendering him speechless. Perhaps he should tell her that he is sure she did her best. A part of him knows that he should inquire who died, to put her in such a mindset; little does he know that he met the fair Rowan once upon a time, and admired her greatly for her mind and its talents. She had been who he had confided in, when he needed a moment to reminisce about his homeland; Rowan had listened when he spoke of the godswood, and the palace, and the land as a whole. Perhaps one day, he will hear of her passing and mourn her properly, but for now, he remains blissfully oblivious.

He is standing within inches of her, awaiting a response to his declaration of devotion. He watches her eyes glaze over with fresh emotion as she determinedly avoids his gaze, and he wishes that he could take her troubles away, bear them with his own, for surely that would be easier than watching her struggle against herself. A war against the unicorns of the north is one thing; a war against one's own mind is quite another entirely. And here she is, so horribly lost in her own mental battle, muttering softly to herself and swaying, shuddering, absorbed in some errant thought process from which she seems unable to escape.

At first, he thinks she is talking to him; her reference to a princess caught him off guard, to be sure. She speaks of a knight, and hurt blossoms with jealousy in his chest as he wonders if she has found herself caught between two living lovers. The knight left her? Well, good riddance (though, in truth, if it caused her this much pain, he is quite ready to find the bastard and drag him back to her). But what is this? The twins? The twins... the twins! Of course, she must be referring to those lost to her, of course he is being ridiculous, of course it is the same old argument again. Why is he so insecure? Why is he jealous of a dead stallion who once called Resplendence 'princess'?

Because she is his princess now. That's why.

She pushes against the tree, only to yelp and scurry away again; he sees the makeshift dagger go flying, and now she is sobbing harder than ever. A gleam of red on her hindquarters makes him frown, for she must have stabbed herself with the accursed wood. Again he steps toward her, refusing to allow her to run away. She must know that he is not going to leave her. She must. "My lady," he murmurs softly, his vocals sad. "Please stop moving, lest you harm yourself more seriously. Now, listen: you are not broken. You are lovely, and wonderful, and bright. You can be anything you wish to be, my darling. I will be whatever you need me to be. But I will unerringly be here, with you, no matter what happens, be it as a friend or a lover or whatever you will have me as." His voice lowers, his gaze softens, and he reaches to touch his muzzle to hers.

"You have always been a princess to me; if you will have me, I would make you mine."

@[Resplendence]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.


RayoDeSoleil | VenomXBaby | NewdyStock | BurtN | SimplyBackgrounds
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!

Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
#6

Resplendence</style>

FROM THE SCRAPES AND BRUISES
TO THE FAMILIAR ABUSES
I'LL KICK AND SCREAM BUT IT NEVER CHANGES ANYTHING



She speaks of watching another die. Her voice breaking. Explaining how she only wished death for herself. She sees his shock. She sees his pain. He's gaping at her. And she can't force herself to continue on. She shakes her head. She simply moves onto the gift he had given her. The gift that proved to her that he loved her. The proof that shattered her fragile mind even more than before. She wanted to accept her emotions. She wanted to be able to tell him she did love him. But it was a battle she didn't know how to fight.

As she backs up, glazed over in emotion and memories, she feels something stab into her hindquarter and can feel the blood as it trickles down her leg. She shakes her head and her voice falls out. Broken. Shattered. Torn. Unusable. The tears won't stop. The pain isn't even registered anymore than the fact that she realized what had caused it and leaped closer toward the wood in an attempt to gather it again. But she's crying too much to do so, she can't even make it out among the ground. And again, Quil is at her side. He won't let her leave. My lady. Sadness is his tone of voice and she finally manages to pull her gaze up toward him. Ashamed, and broken and unfixable. But he made her happy again - when she could get past this thought of betrayal. She didn't know she had been speaking her thoughts out loud. No. She had thought they had simply been fumbling around in her brain. So, as he tells her to stop moving for fear that she will injure herself more the first thing she does is, but of course, move. She moves closer to him, burrowing herself up against his chest and then wanting to hide her frame. To try and forget what had been bumbling around in her brain. Listen? Not broken? Lovely? Wonderful? Bright? "But I am..." she muttered as he continued on, telling her she could be anything. "Except the one who saved those I cared for..." she choked out before he said that he would be whatever he needed him to be. But, he would always be here. "You can't make that promise. Ciro made that promise. He couldn't keep it..." She cried, whispering as she glanced up to him. His voice lowered, gaze softened, and he touched his muzzle against her wet one from her tears.

Princess. That one word broke her completely. "God. Quil..." she cried, pulling up closer and closer to his side. A shaky breath came in. Gently, she reached up, snagging onto a piece of his mane and tugging on it. It's not a betrayal, Princess... You have to move forward sometime... The herbs. They had to be making her lose her mind. But that, combined with Quil calling her Princess allowed her to start to break from her old, forever tortured position. "I love you.... I do. But I can't lose you too..." she whispered, the tears stopping but another form of wetness came pouring down from the sky. The Earth God was back, apparently, for a huge downpour of rain has begun to fall from the skies and soaked the pair where they stood.

No thunder. No lighting. No panic yet. Just a blissful cool. She had finally admitted it. Maybe she could actually move on now and be happy....

591 words
SHE ADMITTED IT

When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#7

The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.

Nothing he says to her is getting through; his thoughts batter around his brain in frustration. "Calm," Zarina tells him reproachfully. "She hurt. You no help." The marmoset is right, of course, and wise beyond her years. Resplendence is aching with a pain that he cannot fix. He knows this. He knows. But, gods, does he wish he could! He wants to be everything to her. He wants to dry her tears. He wants to shield her from hurt. He wants to be everything. He wants it desperately. "Resplendence -" but she cuts him off. He cannot make that promise, she says. She's right, in a way, but in another, she is wrong.

"Resplendence, I - " This time it is her actions more than her words that silences him, for she is burrowed once more against him and her warmth brings that new but familiar adoration to his limbs. His wing gently pulls her closer, providing shelter and stability. She tugs gently on his mane, and he presses his forehead to her nape, closing his eyes with a sigh. He breathes her in, and is momentarily content; but when she says it, his head snaps back upright again. He stares at her, a wide grin slowly spreading across his maw. It is the wrong time to smile, he knows that, but she said it! A laugh bubbles forth, full of success and excitement and glee, and he quickly moves to drapes his nape over hers, pulling her even closer in an equine semblance of a hug.

"Gods, how I wanted to hear you say that!" he exclaimed softly, his muzzle lost in the tangles of her mane. "Resplendence, I cannot tell the future, I cannot pretend that I know with a certainty what is going to happen to me, or you, or anyone. You are correct; I cannot promise you that I will be physically right here by your side every moment of every day. I can promise that everything I do is for you; I can promise that I will do everything in my power to be everything you want and need me to be. Resplendence, I love you! My darling, the future may be terrifying, but this moment, right now - is this not what we ought to live for?" He withdraws, moving to lip gently at the locket hanging from her nape. "This is my promise to you: whenever you want me, whenever you need me, I will be there, from now until I draw my last breath.

"I am yours, my lady."


@[Resplendence]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.


RayoDeSoleil | VenomXBaby | NewdyStock | BurtN | SimplyBackgrounds
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!

Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
#8

Resplendence</style>

FROM THE SCRAPES AND BRUISES
TO THE FAMILIAR ABUSES
I'LL KICK AND SCREAM BUT IT NEVER CHANGES ANYTHING



Res shuffled her feet, moving in closer. Saying he can't keep that promise right after he says her name. Again, he says her name and starts a sentence. But, with herself burrowing up against him he stops. Gently, he lifts his wings, causing her to shudder and flinch only to fall back against his side again. He pulls her closer. He hides her from the world. So, she gently tugs on his mane to get his attention. He presses his forehead against her nape and lets out a small sigh. But, as soon as the words leave her mouth it is as if the world has turned around and been spun upon it's axis. His head shoots up and almost has her bolting away for a second until she realizes that there is nothing to be running from - simply his amazement at the fact that she had said it. That she had said those three words.

A grin is spreading across his maw and he has begun to laugh. He pulls her closer, wrapping his neck across hers and tugging her tightly against him. She winces, feeling a sharp pain in her shoulder but doesn't pull away from the embrace. She doesn't have the fight to care about the pain. He speaks about how he can't tell the future. He speaks of how he doesn't know what is specifically going to happen. How she is correct. He asks if this moment is what they ought to live for and she can simply bob her head. He withdraws from the embrace only to lip at the locket hanging off of her neck. That was his promise. To be there when she needed him until his last breath. "I just... I can't lose you, Quil..." she said, burrowing her head back in his shoulder, feeling as the rain slides down her face and along her neck, some of it going into her wound. "And please. Don't blame yourself for my wounds..." she said, her eyes closed before she remembered him saying something about his own necklace heating up. "Where... where's your necklace?" she questioned, pulling back and glancing up toward him, head tilted gently to the side.

372 words

When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#9

The king whose word no man relies on
Quilyan
never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.

Ah, how easy it is to lose ourselves in our own delusions. Yes, she has said the magic words, has declared her love for the prince; but does she feel it? He will not question it, not so soon after she has made his heart swell with the glorious overabundance of emotion. Perhaps he is too blind to question it even later, when he realizes that he has not once seen a true smile on her maw. Perhaps his upbringing has left him senseless in this regard; he believes that what he wants to happen will happen, simply because he is a prince, and that is the way of the world. He does not understand that it is not the way of this world, that pretty pictures may be ruined by harsh realities that creep up during the night to steal away the happiness.

But our dear prince will not realize the depth of his would-be lover's confusion, for he has not experienced it, and so he will not know of her doubts until, perhaps, it is too late.

He closes his eyes to breath her in, to wrap himself in her scent and her presence and her love (real or imagined, how would he know the difference?), and for the first time since he has entered these lands, he feels that he has truly come home. Oh, how he adores this little mare with the luxurious mane, tiny and fiesty and fearful all in one, this Lady that needs him so desperately and yet not at all, for how can she need him when he needs her even more? He feels that he might burst with the joy of it all, though he knows it is misplaced emotion as chaos and terror reign around him. But is that not when we feel our happiness most acutely? Has it not been said that without fear, and pain, and loss, we would never feel happiness, or love, or pleasure?

"I am here, my lady," he assures her again, for he cannot promise her the future when she so quickly turns it down. "Let the future be; it will come when it comes. But I am here now." He nuzzled her gently. Zarina finds herself on his back now, having fastened the necklace around Resplendence's nape. In her paw she holds the other half of the set, glinting gold in dim light. The rain falls, and it cleanses him (though his bonded grumbles softly, for it is messing up her fur), almost as her words did. "It is here, my darling," he tells her as the marmoset repeats the process of fastening the necklace. He peers at her, his eyes searching for hers. "Always."

@[Resplendence]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.


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