it'll only hurt for a second is my favorite fucking lie
It was strange - the moment Mary’s lips parted to spit words of defiant (yet truthful) anger, a flood of distorted images assaulted Oriax’s mental. It was as if he was living someone’s - was it Mary’s? - dream, viewing things through her eyes. Flashes of memory dance through his mind; a pale green mare, the iron-fisted stallion Oriax had just met, and a fear that he couldn’t quite put his proverbial finger on. Being forgotten? After a few moments of the unfamiliar feelings, Oriax’s attention returns quickly to the fae before him. She was staring at him, almost guiltily.
Did he somehow witness a fear of Mary’s? That was new. And the expression on the young girl’s face nearly confirmed what had just happened. “Interesting,” Oriax breathed, voice low and cunning. His blue orbs bored into Mary’s, giving away the fact that he had just witnessed her fears through near impossible accuracy. But he left the strange phenomenon off of his tongue, not one hundred percent sure how he would voice the incident. Oriax’s gaze fell to the river.
“It seems you have a rather large chip on your shoulder, regarding your dad,”
Oriax smiles, but not out of happiness. He had stumbled upon something within himself he considered powerful. And Oriax often became drunk on his own ability to create chaos around him.
It was going to be a new, interesting game to get himself caught up in.
