07-06-2017, 08:52 AM
you can have my isolation,
you can have the hate that it brings.
you can have the hate that it brings.
He is quiet during most of the journey, but it is not an uncomfortable silence.
Warrick is, undeniably, one that he can be at ease with – there is no ulterior motive to his words or action, and he is deliberate, compassionate, and kind. He had been watchful for some time before ascending once more to a position of power, and he had seen him become the very heartbeat of Tephra itself – as much a part of the island as the looming, rumbling volcano itself. It would be foolish to not see his calm and upbeat demeanor as an asset – and though did had yet to say it to him (or say anything at all, really), there were very few he would rather take such a long and tiring journey with.
The sun had not even set yet when their strong and muscular legs had entrenched into the salty brine of the sea, wading to the shore of the mainland and towards the west, where Hyaline lay. It had been some time since Offspring had ventured out (at most, he’d linger near to the Taigan border, disinterested in what lay beyond but content to be among the shadows and darkness of the thicket canopy), and he does not hesitate to permit Warrick to take the lead.
So different, he and Warrick – one slender – finely muscled but still agile, and one behemoth, slow and deliberate but tall and built. One draped in darkness, and the other a blinding auburn under the shining sun, with faded accents of indigo. Yet, both brooding – irate, alarmed, uneasy.
He, because his own son had undermined his birth kingdom, and brought destruction to another with no cause or reason, and Warrick because he had developed some sort of connection with Hyaline – Offspring did not pry; he did not ask. It was not his place, but if the lingering scent of cherry blossoms, wisteria, and sweat were any indication, he would wonder if some small part of his heart remained in Hyaline.
Alas, upon the arrival of dawn, the lingering scent of the fire’s devastation has made itself known, and their final destination lay just ahead. He is silent, the ridge of his brow line furrowed in discontent as the soft and supple greenery soon give way to charred remains and a blackened ground – for a long and quiet moment, his searing crimson eyes glance towards Warrick, observing the hardened plane of his face, the hollow beneath his eyes.
It is worse than he had anticipated.
It is worse than Levi had told him.
And with that, hesitating at the border, he ceases his movement and with a tilt of his head towards the bright and blinding sky, he has called for the King, and together they wait.
Warrick is, undeniably, one that he can be at ease with – there is no ulterior motive to his words or action, and he is deliberate, compassionate, and kind. He had been watchful for some time before ascending once more to a position of power, and he had seen him become the very heartbeat of Tephra itself – as much a part of the island as the looming, rumbling volcano itself. It would be foolish to not see his calm and upbeat demeanor as an asset – and though did had yet to say it to him (or say anything at all, really), there were very few he would rather take such a long and tiring journey with.
The sun had not even set yet when their strong and muscular legs had entrenched into the salty brine of the sea, wading to the shore of the mainland and towards the west, where Hyaline lay. It had been some time since Offspring had ventured out (at most, he’d linger near to the Taigan border, disinterested in what lay beyond but content to be among the shadows and darkness of the thicket canopy), and he does not hesitate to permit Warrick to take the lead.
So different, he and Warrick – one slender – finely muscled but still agile, and one behemoth, slow and deliberate but tall and built. One draped in darkness, and the other a blinding auburn under the shining sun, with faded accents of indigo. Yet, both brooding – irate, alarmed, uneasy.
He, because his own son had undermined his birth kingdom, and brought destruction to another with no cause or reason, and Warrick because he had developed some sort of connection with Hyaline – Offspring did not pry; he did not ask. It was not his place, but if the lingering scent of cherry blossoms, wisteria, and sweat were any indication, he would wonder if some small part of his heart remained in Hyaline.
Alas, upon the arrival of dawn, the lingering scent of the fire’s devastation has made itself known, and their final destination lay just ahead. He is silent, the ridge of his brow line furrowed in discontent as the soft and supple greenery soon give way to charred remains and a blackened ground – for a long and quiet moment, his searing crimson eyes glance towards Warrick, observing the hardened plane of his face, the hollow beneath his eyes.
It is worse than he had anticipated.
It is worse than Levi had told him.
And with that, hesitating at the border, he ceases his movement and with a tilt of his head towards the bright and blinding sky, he has called for the King, and together they wait.
you can have my absence of faith,
you can have my everything.
you can have my everything.
OFFSPRING
@[Nayl], @[Amet], @[Warrick]