12-09-2017, 09:37 AM
like the sun swallowed up by the earth
He feels as though he is showing her his world for the first time, and perhaps in a way he was, through his eyes. The bay stallion is known for his gentleness and humility, and though the fire and brimstone of Tephra holds a special piece of his heart, he himself is not made of smoke and ash, but of starlight and galaxies. He waits patiently for her to enter the cool-running stream, the slow current hypnotic as it pulls at his legs and chest, swirling gently as it laps at his russet skin. The ends of his long and tangled mane, crisp with dried salt from Tephra’s mighty ocean winds, dangle into the surface of the water, dampening against his shoulder as the rest is pulled along by the stream’s natural flow. Ceara enters quietly, somehow almost shyly, and the stallion is not sure why (or that is what he tells himself). He smiles easily at her, his kind eyes meeting her own as the velvet red of her legs are swallowed up by the clear water. Warrick perhaps is not as concerned with Offspring’s thoughts of their midday swim - the friendship between the two stallions is solidly built on a foundation of trust and loyalty, and though Warrick’s lonely ache in his chest is soothed by her presence, he hopes the once-King knows that Ceara is perhaps safer with him than she is wandering Tephra alone.
“Too wild?” he repeats curiously, a brow rising above one of his blue eyes. “There is no such thing,” he admits with a quiet laugh, his mind flickering to his own son - Svedka - who is as wild and untamed as the ocean itself. There is no harnessing that boy, he has realized, and for a thoughtful moment he looks to Ceara and thinks the same - a leash will only hinder her, just like his son, just like Tangerine.
The blue-bay doesn’t voice this, but the contemplation of his eyes perhaps shows his pensiveness and maybe she will force him to verbalize his thoughts - doesn’t she realize she is so much more than just Offspring’s daughter?
When his churning mind slows, he glances up to realize she has turned away, the tone of her voice no longer sultry and sweet, but a sort of bitterness that does not do well on her tongue. The sound of rushing water permeates the silence as it grows, bubbling and babbling against their bodies. He presses the cobalt of his lips together, watching her for a moment before stretching his neck forward to bump his muzzle against her cheek, to bring her gaze back to his own. He lingers there, waiting for her to begin to turn her delicate head back towards him before he draws back with a slight tilt of his own head.
“He cares for you,” he offers truthfully, “He may trust you yet. However, I know for a fact it is others that he does not.” He thinks to Solace, his little buckskin light, whom he knew could take on the world; but he cannot help the worry that comes with being a father, and even though he knows he has raised her with all the wisdom and knowledge he could offer, he cannot control what happens to her. He sympathizes with Offspring, but also with the crimson and ebony mare before him, his eyes soft.
“He doesn’t want the harshness of the world to plague your beautiful soul.”
Warrick
@[Ceara]
omg is he a dilf or what