05-26-2018, 09:11 PM
Ardashir
Walking in the background in life was seemingly Ardashir’s life. He did not mind it at all either now. The stallion liked to just sink into the woodwork and not have to worry about trying to upstage or be upstaged. The world moved slow when you were alone and not under the pressure of pleasing those around you. Ard would not consider himself lazy. He was just sick of trying and nothing coming from it. Sick of all the meetings, and just the general interactions with all of the kingdom. The current events of the kingdom had reached his ears though and he had let it roll off him once more.
The wind was not on the stallion’s side today. The scent of the other horse did not travel to his nose. His scent though was free to travel in her direction. He was still licking his lips when the voice came to his ears. Interloper.. His mind snapped the word, and he did not put it to his lips. The ivory stag knew better. She might have been a surprise to him but, Ardashir could tell that this was a true resident of Nerine. New though she might be to his eyes. Those blue eyes of his were hidden under a curtain of long ashen colored forelock hair.
The stallion tossed his head and moved what he could out of his line of sight. A bay filly came from the tree line. He had to think a moment on that accent and once more his mind cried out Interloper!. This filly was not born of Nerine. He scolded himself, reminding that inner-self that he was not born of this land either. He was a bastard, and orphan..twice. Ardashir had been brought here, and then left here. She moved closer and paused a comfortable distance from him. They could talk in peace without the worry about personal bubbles. He bowed his head. “ I am Ardashir. Good to meet you Wishbone.” His voice had a bit of gravel on that layer of silver he usually spoke with. “ And, I have not met you either.” There was not a muscle in his body that gave off any cruelty in the draft stag. He shook his frame a moment and looked back to Wishbone.
The wind was not on the stallion’s side today. The scent of the other horse did not travel to his nose. His scent though was free to travel in her direction. He was still licking his lips when the voice came to his ears. Interloper.. His mind snapped the word, and he did not put it to his lips. The ivory stag knew better. She might have been a surprise to him but, Ardashir could tell that this was a true resident of Nerine. New though she might be to his eyes. Those blue eyes of his were hidden under a curtain of long ashen colored forelock hair.
The stallion tossed his head and moved what he could out of his line of sight. A bay filly came from the tree line. He had to think a moment on that accent and once more his mind cried out Interloper!. This filly was not born of Nerine. He scolded himself, reminding that inner-self that he was not born of this land either. He was a bastard, and orphan..twice. Ardashir had been brought here, and then left here. She moved closer and paused a comfortable distance from him. They could talk in peace without the worry about personal bubbles. He bowed his head. “ I am Ardashir. Good to meet you Wishbone.” His voice had a bit of gravel on that layer of silver he usually spoke with. “ And, I have not met you either.” There was not a muscle in his body that gave off any cruelty in the draft stag. He shook his frame a moment and looked back to Wishbone.
The blue in an ocean of gray..
@[Wishbone]
You’ve mistaken the stars reflected on the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.