11-11-2019, 12:04 PM
Their interaction had been a delicate dance from the moment she'd come upon him basking at the river's edge. He'd led it, for the most part. Guided the conversation the way he wanted it to go, and navigated the mare's rather caustic temper with mixed success. It was a habit he'd gotten into subconsciously. It was easier by far to keep the focus away from himself, to keep the conversation centered on whomever happened to strike up with him and deflect any personal inquiries that might come up.
It had worked beautifully, really. While Casimira snapped and snarled at him, he stayed in control, moderated his reactions to hers and stayed more or less on top of things. That was how he liked it. Control was everything to the draconic stallion, not only in regards to his shifting. It passed briefly through his mind that this was a reason he'd dawdled so long in travelling back to Loess. Living in a kingdom, in that kingdom especially, would mean sacrificing his autonomy. It might be where he had kin, but it was also where he had rules.
Her biting tone, while not the one he's used to hearing from mares, is acceptable because he knows he had caused it. Control. It was his only balm when chaos reigned. Her acceptance of his apology was a relief, things going right again. The words that followed it had the opposite effect. For a moment, all he could do was blink at her. Way to turn the tables. Not having his shifting was nothing he'd ever felt compelled to consider. It had marked his as different, even from his own twin, from the moment they'd been born.
Some days he really thought it was the only reason their mother loved them at all. They were all she really had of a time when she'd felt powerful and in command. The brief peak of her life that had culminated in her affair with their sire that had ultimately destroyed her. She'd gotten a draconic boy and his brother as her consolation prizes in the end. Would she have cared about them less of they hadn't borne the marks of their sire? Would they have suffered the same fate as Rebelle had, driven away in a fit of madness.
He considered simply ignoring the questions. Keeping the spotlight on Casimira through pure effort of will. Scowling at the ground, options plagued through his mind. There should have been a simple answer, but he was so far coming up with much more complicated things. "I don't know," he shrugged at last, looking up at her as through the answers he was looking for might be hiding in the snowy curls of her mane. "Sometimes... Sometimes I wish I didn't have it. That I was the color of mud and that my parents had never met. Is that horrible?" He asked, feeling as if he'd. been thrown head first into a hurricane. These were feelings he'd never expressed before. No one had ever had reason to ask.
Why would they? He was a dragon child. Fire ran in his veins and burned in his eyes, and he was powerful because of it. Wasn't that what everyone wanted? Power. Control. Well what the hell was he supposed to do with power? There was no ambition in the glittering horse, nothing bigger than the want to come and go as he wished. To be loved for being him, and not his magic. The previously bouyant stallion now stood deflated. He'd never really know.
@[Casimira]
It had worked beautifully, really. While Casimira snapped and snarled at him, he stayed in control, moderated his reactions to hers and stayed more or less on top of things. That was how he liked it. Control was everything to the draconic stallion, not only in regards to his shifting. It passed briefly through his mind that this was a reason he'd dawdled so long in travelling back to Loess. Living in a kingdom, in that kingdom especially, would mean sacrificing his autonomy. It might be where he had kin, but it was also where he had rules.
Her biting tone, while not the one he's used to hearing from mares, is acceptable because he knows he had caused it. Control. It was his only balm when chaos reigned. Her acceptance of his apology was a relief, things going right again. The words that followed it had the opposite effect. For a moment, all he could do was blink at her. Way to turn the tables. Not having his shifting was nothing he'd ever felt compelled to consider. It had marked his as different, even from his own twin, from the moment they'd been born.
Some days he really thought it was the only reason their mother loved them at all. They were all she really had of a time when she'd felt powerful and in command. The brief peak of her life that had culminated in her affair with their sire that had ultimately destroyed her. She'd gotten a draconic boy and his brother as her consolation prizes in the end. Would she have cared about them less of they hadn't borne the marks of their sire? Would they have suffered the same fate as Rebelle had, driven away in a fit of madness.
He considered simply ignoring the questions. Keeping the spotlight on Casimira through pure effort of will. Scowling at the ground, options plagued through his mind. There should have been a simple answer, but he was so far coming up with much more complicated things. "I don't know," he shrugged at last, looking up at her as through the answers he was looking for might be hiding in the snowy curls of her mane. "Sometimes... Sometimes I wish I didn't have it. That I was the color of mud and that my parents had never met. Is that horrible?" He asked, feeling as if he'd. been thrown head first into a hurricane. These were feelings he'd never expressed before. No one had ever had reason to ask.
Why would they? He was a dragon child. Fire ran in his veins and burned in his eyes, and he was powerful because of it. Wasn't that what everyone wanted? Power. Control. Well what the hell was he supposed to do with power? There was no ambition in the glittering horse, nothing bigger than the want to come and go as he wished. To be loved for being him, and not his magic. The previously bouyant stallion now stood deflated. He'd never really know.
@[Casimira]