08-16-2016, 09:05 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
He had not been surprised when the heavily pregnant queen had silently left their little meeting. How anything could get that ungodly pregnant is beyond him. But then again, he is certain that the magician is the father of her brood, so anything is possible. If anything, he appreciates her silent exit. Too many females throw themselves into hysterics over childbirth, even of just a single foal. This disgusts him - he had birthed his own monstrosity once upon a time and he had survived. There was nothing special about childbirth, just another part of life that the females liked to pretend was magical.
And so he was unsurprised when, days afterward, he feels her tendrils of magic reaching for him, digging him out of his hiding. He had felt the guardian’s magic surge earlier in the week and assumed that their offspring had arrived so it was only fitting that now that she was recovered she would seek him out to finish their discussion. Anything less would be unthinkable. At least to him.
He grazes while he feels her approach, unfazed. While he cannot protect his mind fully from the telepath’s reach, he has learned elements of self-defense in his time. He is able to reroute their access, divert their course from the more delectable tidbits they might find within. But knowing that this is her main means of communication, he leaves himself (mostly) unguarded to allow her words to slither in. Perhaps it does not occur to the telepaths how vile it feels to have another’s thoughts desecrate the hallow space of one’s own inner sanctuary. It is, after all, typically their natural way to communicate. But for those who speak with their vocal chords and hear with their ears - the violation of one’s mind is akin to a molestation.
Regardless of the violation, he remains collected. His features show no change in humor at her greeting and he continues to chew casually. A small nod moves his heavy head slightly, acknowledging her prior indisposition. He appreciates that she does not elaborate. He turns to regard her, sees the steel of her gaze and smiles halfheartedly. Time would tell. “My questions have been answered by your guardian, for the most part.” He says quietly, knowing that his voice is unnecessary. “You have a strong guardian.” The words flow from his lips like water, more of a musing than a part of their conversation. “But one horse can only do so much, however strong.”
He pauses, the silence of the valley encroaching upon them. “Make me your general. I will ensure that the valley grows in strength. Let me create her legions.” While the words are not particularly loud or strong, there is an underlying challenge. What has she to lose?
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N