03-09-2016, 10:54 AM
lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all.
but lend me your heart and i'll just let you fall.
but lend me your heart and i'll just let you fall.
"You won't be short forever," He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he shifts his massive weight from one set of legs to the next, growing weary of standing in one spot for too long. "Look at your legs. Look at how long they are. That tells me you'll be tall when you're older; you're already growing taller each day. There were such deep, fundamental differences between the two; it was almost a comical mismatch.
He had spent much of his time hiding away from the world, and for many reasons - he had lived long enough to experience much of what Thaniel has yet to, and life is harsh, and it is cruel, and within the realm of immortality, it can be an overwhelming reality. In his youth, he had struggled with this suffering, and it is not until recent years that he had come to draw himself out of his own shell.
Perpetual loneliness is no way to live a life, and eventually, the quiet evenings and solitary days grow tiring. He craved companionship and experiences once more, but it had taken years of strike and self-loathing to arrive at that conclusion. Life was far from simple, and while many were working against a timed clock, he himself had heard the ticking of his own die long ago. He had all of the time in the world, which was both a terrifying and beautiful thing.
When he had been young - not as young as Thaniel, no, but young enough to be naive - he had thought the same things. He would have never turned away in difficult times, nor would he have hidden - but he also supposed that when one being is exposed to so much anguish in one small square space of time, sometimes it is best to disappear, lick the wounds clean and reassess. He loses himself for a brief moment in these thoughts as he leans down, letting the cool water of the spring to touch his lips as he drinks.
Once he is finally sated, he lifts his thick neck again with an abrupt toss, willing his unruly, tangled tresses to remain at bay. His dark red eyes peer once more at the boy, who is more than he bargained for in this small venture from the icy confines of his home. When Thaniel begins to speak of his name, he cannot help but to inwardly roll his eyes. He loathes this story, and though the dappled boy's question is innocent enough, it causes a roll of anxiety to dwell within the pit of his stomach. He studies him as he finds amusement in his name, but he can see the lack of understanding and he softens as a faint smile tugs at the corners of his own. He cannot expect a child to understand, but he would will him to.
"Honestly, kid? My mother didn't want me, so she tried to give me the most genetic name possible. A name that isn't actually a name. Unfortunately for her, I did not understand that at the time and grew fond it anyway. And I kept it."
He saw no use in lying to him - he was very young still, but he was obviously bright, and incredibly forthcoming. He knew it was only a matter of time until he pressed him hard enough for the information anyway. He pauses to study the boy, his own muscles flexing beneath his taut, obsidian pelt as he observes him.
The bleak sunlight of day peeks through the thick foliage of the forest and lingers on his spine, warming him to the core in a way that evoked a longing for the icy tundra. His crimson gaze bores into him, watching the way his face contorts into one of familiar sadness. He can sense the change in the atmosphere and he can almost feel the way the boy's heart constricts. He knows the feeling all too well.
Loneliness was an insatiable beast, hungry for any source of woe or distress.
The boy attempts to then force his way into laughter once more, but he can see through his thinly veiled disguise all to well and his eyes remain soft now, his smile far gone. He tried to find amusement in Offspring's age, but he himself could sense the ebb and flow of their conversation beginning to shift. He had pondered before whether or not the boy would leave him alone soon, and soon it was clear to him that the boy needed guidance, needed company. Though he was evidently very independent and undeniably full of life and energy, he was craving companionship. The thought weighed heavily in his mind, and he forced a smile to retain some sort of semblance of normalcy as the gears in his mind grind in thought.
"I was this large before I hit the age of seven, so no, that isn't why - but you are right. I probably do look old." He does not tell him that he will never look older than he does now. That he will never know the ache of pained joints or fragile bones. He will never see an end to this life; though he will see the lives of many more that he comes across in his journeys turn to dust within years' times. He is too young to understand the implications of it, and he does not want to go into it now. "Nightfall is coming and I have to leave now. I live miles away, in the icy tundra," He pauses, watching the colt's expression carefully. "It is cold, and sometimes difficult to live in, but it is my home. You shouldn't be out here alone." and against his better judgment, "Come with me."
He had spent much of his time hiding away from the world, and for many reasons - he had lived long enough to experience much of what Thaniel has yet to, and life is harsh, and it is cruel, and within the realm of immortality, it can be an overwhelming reality. In his youth, he had struggled with this suffering, and it is not until recent years that he had come to draw himself out of his own shell.
Perpetual loneliness is no way to live a life, and eventually, the quiet evenings and solitary days grow tiring. He craved companionship and experiences once more, but it had taken years of strike and self-loathing to arrive at that conclusion. Life was far from simple, and while many were working against a timed clock, he himself had heard the ticking of his own die long ago. He had all of the time in the world, which was both a terrifying and beautiful thing.
When he had been young - not as young as Thaniel, no, but young enough to be naive - he had thought the same things. He would have never turned away in difficult times, nor would he have hidden - but he also supposed that when one being is exposed to so much anguish in one small square space of time, sometimes it is best to disappear, lick the wounds clean and reassess. He loses himself for a brief moment in these thoughts as he leans down, letting the cool water of the spring to touch his lips as he drinks.
Once he is finally sated, he lifts his thick neck again with an abrupt toss, willing his unruly, tangled tresses to remain at bay. His dark red eyes peer once more at the boy, who is more than he bargained for in this small venture from the icy confines of his home. When Thaniel begins to speak of his name, he cannot help but to inwardly roll his eyes. He loathes this story, and though the dappled boy's question is innocent enough, it causes a roll of anxiety to dwell within the pit of his stomach. He studies him as he finds amusement in his name, but he can see the lack of understanding and he softens as a faint smile tugs at the corners of his own. He cannot expect a child to understand, but he would will him to.
"Honestly, kid? My mother didn't want me, so she tried to give me the most genetic name possible. A name that isn't actually a name. Unfortunately for her, I did not understand that at the time and grew fond it anyway. And I kept it."
He saw no use in lying to him - he was very young still, but he was obviously bright, and incredibly forthcoming. He knew it was only a matter of time until he pressed him hard enough for the information anyway. He pauses to study the boy, his own muscles flexing beneath his taut, obsidian pelt as he observes him.
The bleak sunlight of day peeks through the thick foliage of the forest and lingers on his spine, warming him to the core in a way that evoked a longing for the icy tundra. His crimson gaze bores into him, watching the way his face contorts into one of familiar sadness. He can sense the change in the atmosphere and he can almost feel the way the boy's heart constricts. He knows the feeling all too well.
Loneliness was an insatiable beast, hungry for any source of woe or distress.
The boy attempts to then force his way into laughter once more, but he can see through his thinly veiled disguise all to well and his eyes remain soft now, his smile far gone. He tried to find amusement in Offspring's age, but he himself could sense the ebb and flow of their conversation beginning to shift. He had pondered before whether or not the boy would leave him alone soon, and soon it was clear to him that the boy needed guidance, needed company. Though he was evidently very independent and undeniably full of life and energy, he was craving companionship. The thought weighed heavily in his mind, and he forced a smile to retain some sort of semblance of normalcy as the gears in his mind grind in thought.
"I was this large before I hit the age of seven, so no, that isn't why - but you are right. I probably do look old." He does not tell him that he will never look older than he does now. That he will never know the ache of pained joints or fragile bones. He will never see an end to this life; though he will see the lives of many more that he comes across in his journeys turn to dust within years' times. He is too young to understand the implications of it, and he does not want to go into it now. "Nightfall is coming and I have to leave now. I live miles away, in the icy tundra," He pauses, watching the colt's expression carefully. "It is cold, and sometimes difficult to live in, but it is my home. You shouldn't be out here alone." and against his better judgment, "Come with me."
OFFSPRING