01-13-2019, 07:22 PM
SO GIVE ME HOPE IN THE DARKNESS THAT I WILL SEE THE LIGHT
'CAUSE OH THAT GAVE ME SUCH A FRIGHT
'CAUSE OH THAT GAVE ME SUCH A FRIGHT
Despite the vast amount of power he wields now, Brennen is not immune to the Plague himself. He’s infected, but he hasn’t attempted to heal himself. Minor magic swirls around, keeping him a little healthier than some of the others, but he doesn’t look magnificent at the moment. And it’s a constant battle with his youngest son – Maertin wants to heal him, but Brennen has been resistant. He can’t die, after all, so their efforts are better focused on others. Still, he can feel the persistent cough receding in the steamy air of Tephra and for the first time, the bay considers letting himself be healed. Perhaps, especially if Breckin is to name him Champion, it would be better for Brennen to be at full health.
He takes in her approach with a gentle curiosity – she is roan, like so many of her family, but the gold blaze is certainly striking. Once, on the verges of dreams, another of his sons had asked him why he hadn’t used magic to make himself ‘funner colored’; the warrior had laughed and lulled the boy back to sleep, but later as he kept watch over the jumble of sleeping foals he’d contemplated why he’s chosen to stay bay. Perhaps once or twice he’s considered restoring what the world had stolen from him when the magic was stripped from them – the scars and markings he’d earned in his beloved Tundra. In the end, it had been one of the things Brennen decided was better left in the past. The Tundra is gone, and he is not the same as he was before.
Brennen smiles back at the filly and listens to her words, wondering why she is here if she isn’t going to claim membership. But he doesn’t ask, at least now for now. “I’m looking for you, actually,” comes the quietly drawled response, and he lowers his head to her level. “I’m Brennen; your father wanted me to see if I could help you. Heal you.” In the back of his head, bits of their disagreement play like a bad memory, but the warrior keeps his face clear of any judgements or disapproval for Leilan’s actions towards his child. It’s really none of his business – Leilan is no longer one of his Brothers, no longer answerable to him in any way, and so he will do his best to keep his advice to himself unless the boy asks for it. “It’s up to you, of course, but may I try?”
He takes in her approach with a gentle curiosity – she is roan, like so many of her family, but the gold blaze is certainly striking. Once, on the verges of dreams, another of his sons had asked him why he hadn’t used magic to make himself ‘funner colored’; the warrior had laughed and lulled the boy back to sleep, but later as he kept watch over the jumble of sleeping foals he’d contemplated why he’s chosen to stay bay. Perhaps once or twice he’s considered restoring what the world had stolen from him when the magic was stripped from them – the scars and markings he’d earned in his beloved Tundra. In the end, it had been one of the things Brennen decided was better left in the past. The Tundra is gone, and he is not the same as he was before.
Brennen smiles back at the filly and listens to her words, wondering why she is here if she isn’t going to claim membership. But he doesn’t ask, at least now for now. “I’m looking for you, actually,” comes the quietly drawled response, and he lowers his head to her level. “I’m Brennen; your father wanted me to see if I could help you. Heal you.” In the back of his head, bits of their disagreement play like a bad memory, but the warrior keeps his face clear of any judgements or disapproval for Leilan’s actions towards his child. It’s really none of his business – Leilan is no longer one of his Brothers, no longer answerable to him in any way, and so he will do his best to keep his advice to himself unless the boy asks for it. “It’s up to you, of course, but may I try?”
BUT I WILL HOLD AS LONG AS YOU LIKE
JUST PROMISE ME WE'LL BE ALRIGHT
JUST PROMISE ME WE'LL BE ALRIGHT
Brennen
