keep a little fire burning; provoke, any

[Smoak]

Keep a little fire burning;
however small, however hidden.

Drowsiness clings to him, hazel eyes hesitant to open and remove all last tendrils of his daytime nap. When finally he coaxes himself awake, the champagne stallion peers out over the river for a brief moment before shifting his weight away from the large oak. His lanky appendages help him to pivot back towards Hyaline and he comes face to face with a small teal and purple creature, eyes wide with terror. Smoak takes his own step back, alarmed by the sudden appearance of the foal and by the prospect of whatever had scared her still hanging around the river.

But when she backs away from him with her own stuttering steps and a shaky voice, Smoak's face twists up in confusion and he shakes his bone-armored head to reassure her. "No, uh, I won't eat you, I promise," he watches her closely, unsure of the best way to approach a situation such as this. "I only like to eat grass. I'm pretty picky." He forces a small grin, ears twisting forward to face the cotton candy colored filly.

"Can you tell me why you're so scared?" he asks tentatively, hoping that whatever had terrified her was nowhere near them now. He hasn't much experience in actually fights, just what Mom and Scyla have taught him in the past, and now he realizes that perhaps he and Svedka should have practiced fighting more often than they had.

Smoak

@[Provoke]