Leilan
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside
could have so many ragged holes inside
could have so many ragged holes inside
The urge to shake his fur is so grained-in that he still does it, though it’s only making him spray water from his mane. Hmm. Takes some time to get used to the new attributes. Like the heat vision - sometimes when he blinks, it has just switched without him knowing what triggers it. Kind of frustrating but perhaps he’ll get the hang of it later.
When the rain drags in another wet horse, this is exactly what is happening. Unsure yet who enters because the rain drenches the smell and his vision is orange-impaired with heat signals, he stills only at her voice. It’s her. And she’s hurt and angry.
For a moment he’s silent, blinking and trying to switch visions furiously for a few heartbeats - finally the orange makes room for a familiar icy blue, that immediately darkens to a much deeper, dark blue, although he doesn’t see it himself. What he sees is a fully-drenched Breckin - he’s happy for her not to have changed as much as he - but feels sorry to have apparently dragged her through this rainstorm.
It’s a conflicting storm of emotions inside - hurt by the tone of her voice, but feeling that it is justified that she’s angry with him, a little afraid to speak and hurt or anger her more, a little afraid of what she’ll say. Regret at past actions - most of all that one, overshadowing the rest. His own hurt mixed inbetween, though his own anger at least he left somewhere - perhaps on the mountain - does she know she’s been that last drop that made him go that way at all, probably not; should he ever tell her, he doubts it.
He doesn’t know how much time passes, staring at her ghostly appearance here with the rain curtain falling behind her. And he can only guess, but it feels like she will be even more hurt if he says nothing, so he searches for the words.
Searches some more. An audible breath intake, then a reluctant confession, at long last. ”I don’t think I really want you to.”
He doesn’t register that ‘my kingdom’ may mean more than it just being her home. No idea he’s talking to a queen now - to him she’ll always be Breckin, and Breckin is always more than just another mare, another Leviathan, another queen. But the things he’d said... to her, to the others. No, it’s just the things he said to her, that matter to him now. The rest... the others - Briseis, Jenova - it’ll have to wait. One step at the time, as he’d always done with her. For her. She always needed him to be patient, though she never had to ask him to be.
There’s one thing important to say though, if she’ll let him, and he can’t be patient enough now that he’s finally started talking. He guesses he should better just throw it at her before she leaves - if she leaves she’ll never hear it. He cannot do this again, going and not-going. He can’t really look at her though. Evades her eyes. Afraid of what he’ll see, if there’s fury and coldness in them. ”I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry for all that I said, but, they’ve been said and done, so... I just wanted to tell you that... I said the stupidest things. Thought it’d go away. But if you want me to leave, I will.” Whatever she asks, he’ll do. It’s always been that way, it’s just that she didn’t see it. And that he hasn’t dare asking her before - afraid of the answer. But if it makes her happier if he doesn’t come back... well at least she’ll be happier.
When the rain drags in another wet horse, this is exactly what is happening. Unsure yet who enters because the rain drenches the smell and his vision is orange-impaired with heat signals, he stills only at her voice. It’s her. And she’s hurt and angry.
For a moment he’s silent, blinking and trying to switch visions furiously for a few heartbeats - finally the orange makes room for a familiar icy blue, that immediately darkens to a much deeper, dark blue, although he doesn’t see it himself. What he sees is a fully-drenched Breckin - he’s happy for her not to have changed as much as he - but feels sorry to have apparently dragged her through this rainstorm.
It’s a conflicting storm of emotions inside - hurt by the tone of her voice, but feeling that it is justified that she’s angry with him, a little afraid to speak and hurt or anger her more, a little afraid of what she’ll say. Regret at past actions - most of all that one, overshadowing the rest. His own hurt mixed inbetween, though his own anger at least he left somewhere - perhaps on the mountain - does she know she’s been that last drop that made him go that way at all, probably not; should he ever tell her, he doubts it.
He doesn’t know how much time passes, staring at her ghostly appearance here with the rain curtain falling behind her. And he can only guess, but it feels like she will be even more hurt if he says nothing, so he searches for the words.
Searches some more. An audible breath intake, then a reluctant confession, at long last. ”I don’t think I really want you to.”
He doesn’t register that ‘my kingdom’ may mean more than it just being her home. No idea he’s talking to a queen now - to him she’ll always be Breckin, and Breckin is always more than just another mare, another Leviathan, another queen. But the things he’d said... to her, to the others. No, it’s just the things he said to her, that matter to him now. The rest... the others - Briseis, Jenova - it’ll have to wait. One step at the time, as he’d always done with her. For her. She always needed him to be patient, though she never had to ask him to be.
There’s one thing important to say though, if she’ll let him, and he can’t be patient enough now that he’s finally started talking. He guesses he should better just throw it at her before she leaves - if she leaves she’ll never hear it. He cannot do this again, going and not-going. He can’t really look at her though. Evades her eyes. Afraid of what he’ll see, if there’s fury and coldness in them. ”I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry for all that I said, but, they’ve been said and done, so... I just wanted to tell you that... I said the stupidest things. Thought it’d go away. But if you want me to leave, I will.” Whatever she asks, he’ll do. It’s always been that way, it’s just that she didn’t see it. And that he hasn’t dare asking her before - afraid of the answer. But if it makes her happier if he doesn’t come back... well at least she’ll be happier.
@[Breckin]
Sorry I just immediately jumped on this xP
Edited, sorry for double tagging
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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