no tears left to cry || Smoak

[Smoak]

The winged woman greets him with a tentative smile, to which the champagne stallion takes no offense ─ he had seen firsthand the terror and pain that stallions could inflict on the mares they interacted with. Her hesitance is only normal, and justified. Ledger rises in his thoughts, an oddly timed and unwelcome memory of the bear-shifter attacking him and his mother after she had ended her relationship with him. Ellyse had done her best to explain it to Smoak later, though in his youth he hadn't cared about the reason, only that the one-eyed stallion had tried to murder both of them.

He is patient, his face apologetic, as the cremello mare decides that it is safe to approach him. She responds to his inquiry swiftly and deliberately, as if her first few moments of hesitancy had been all of the time she had needed to feel wary of him. The bone-armored thoroughbred cannot blame her, nor is he surprised; his sullen, sunken frame is neither intimidating or impressive, and even without magical traits, the golden mare would be able to handle Smoak with ease.

Not to mention that anger and aggression are not his two favorite emotions.

He smiles kindly at her response as she nestles her wings comfortably to her sides. Motioning over his shoulder with his chin, the champagne stallion shrugs slightly and offers a small, tired grin - "My armor doesn't help much with flight," he offers by way of explanation for his question, oddly aware of how his comment offers no real personal information about himself. She doesn't seem offended, though, and he is thankful for this as he shuffles in place and redirects his gaze from her to the lake, the epitome of discomfort before he finally asks her about his parents.

I'm sorry, she offers him with a voice that sounds tight and Smoak swiftly moves his hazel eyes back to the beautiful winged mare, concerned that his questioning has caused her discomfort. "There is no apology needed," he tells her quickly, with a warm light in his eyes as she reaches for him with a comforting nudge to his bone-plated shoulder. Her scent lingers as she recoils and his nostrils flutter pleasantly at the mixture of woman and sea breeze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nymf. I'm Smoak," he offers in return, hazel eyes inspecting hers as he searches for a way to continue the conversation, but not in the direction of his parents. "How are you enjoying the island so far, Nymf? Where is your favorite place to spend time?" He worries then that his questions might seem too intrusive for someone he has just met, but Smoak does not have many acquaintances, only family ─ and for him, there is no line between conversation that would be deemed acceptable for close friends and conversation for those he had just met.

S M O A K
here's a handshake, soldier, 'cause we both lost the war

thanks evvie !

@[Nymf]