11-01-2018, 11:08 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
He has a magical finger on the pulse of all of his children. It is the best part, in his opinion, of the magic Beqanna has gifted him. The bay stallion isn’t directly involved in the lives of all of his offspring, sometimes he is merely a sperm donor of sorts and the mother doesn’t want anything to do with him – but he keeps a quiet track of them anyway, and it’s so much easier now. Of course then there are times when the world goes to hell and it’s easier to see who isn’t in danger than who is, but like all things he believes this will pass, in time. Right now, he’s mostly ignoring the whole lot of them while he tries to figure out what to do about the right now, in the here and now, with the part of his family that lives with him and his Brothers.
Brennen may be distracted, but the whirlwind of increasing distress and then absolute panic of one of his children – and on his own shores! – is not something he can ignore. With barely a thought, a brush of his mental fingers against the ocean, Brennen is between the threat and his daughter. In a single battle-trained glance, he assesses the situation. The lizard is the threat; the stallion behind him and beside the filly is not – at least not immediately. Therefore he turns his formidable amber gaze directly unto the threat, and the sound that emits from him could only be described as a growl (if, of course, equines could growl).
“No one will be feeding you in Ischia,” he snarls, pinning his ears and snaking his refined head towards the giant lizard. At his hooves, the shallow water bubbles and froths in response to the power that escapes his not-so-practiced control. He flicks one ear backwards towards the filly and the stallion, and he tentatively reaches out with thoughts – not something he’s been keen on practicing, because it seems like a mistake could have terrible consequences, but someone had pointed out to him that it might one day be a useful magical skill. He should remember to thank them. ‘Go!’ he attempts to send the thought to them. ‘Find shelter on the island;’. The last thing he wants is either of them underfoot if this comes to an actual battle.
Brennen may be distracted, but the whirlwind of increasing distress and then absolute panic of one of his children – and on his own shores! – is not something he can ignore. With barely a thought, a brush of his mental fingers against the ocean, Brennen is between the threat and his daughter. In a single battle-trained glance, he assesses the situation. The lizard is the threat; the stallion behind him and beside the filly is not – at least not immediately. Therefore he turns his formidable amber gaze directly unto the threat, and the sound that emits from him could only be described as a growl (if, of course, equines could growl).
“No one will be feeding you in Ischia,” he snarls, pinning his ears and snaking his refined head towards the giant lizard. At his hooves, the shallow water bubbles and froths in response to the power that escapes his not-so-practiced control. He flicks one ear backwards towards the filly and the stallion, and he tentatively reaches out with thoughts – not something he’s been keen on practicing, because it seems like a mistake could have terrible consequences, but someone had pointed out to him that it might one day be a useful magical skill. He should remember to thank them. ‘Go!’ he attempts to send the thought to them. ‘Find shelter on the island;’. The last thing he wants is either of them underfoot if this comes to an actual battle.
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN