09-17-2018, 04:30 AM
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
His words echo at the cave’s walls as they find a way to register with her. It seems forever until she says something, though it could be a split second in real life. But it’s what she says that catches him totally off-guard.
Finally.
Of all things he expected her to do or say - stay silent in defiance, tell him to go away because it does indeed make her happier to be alone than to see him, even tell him to stay, or starting to yell at him instead in well-deserved anger, or coldly tell him to drop dead, or that she doesn’t believe him - of all these things, the word ‘finally’ is the least expected and he can only stare at her.
He finds his voice when she finds her legs, so when she comes forward and he expects an angry blow but instead he recieves a soft touch, something like an embrace, he starts with a half question. ”What are you -“ Doing? Saying? Both could easily be the end of the question he’ll never have to ask, because the answer is suddenly in his head.
It reminds him of the swirls of colour he recieved when initiating for the brotherhood. But this time he knows the source, sees that damned day through her eyes, and understands that he’d triggered that fear in her that he was so afraid of triggering in the first place, that first day, when she would shyly and fleetingly react to his shameless flirting back in the forest’s creek - he knew then that going too fast would mean she’d run, but he’d never guessed that just the mention of a possibility of him being hurt, even when that danger had already been subsided, would do just the same thing. He’d honestly thought he’d said or done something to make her realize that she did not want his attention, not... not this.
And the fact that they hadn’t seen each other for so long had just implied that what he’d assumed then, was true. That she did not want him at all. That she thought they were better off alone, and if she thought so, it would probably be true.
Maybe his idiocy was contagious, or maybe they both always were equal idiots and he’d found his match in her.
Reaching down slowly when the vision she gave him ends, he rests his head around her neck and on her shoulder, thoughts running throught his mind without hold as he doesn’t even try to stop and look at them. He’s very silent, knows he shouldn’t be, but, he just can’t find the right words right away. He’s never been that good with words anyway. Sure, he pretends he is, but really, no. He’ll never make a diplomat, not a good one anyway, as he’s always told his leader.
He tries anyway, though. Perhaps he can make her laugh again after all this. ”You can’t just go and take all the blame here. I’m at least as much an idiot as you are.” he tugs her mane teasingly, though it’s a bit half-hearted. ”So does this mean I can officially keep annoying you from now on? You know I can do that forever if need be.” A serious question packed in an unserious tone - the usual, as it should be. It’s true though, the idiot part - he should have been stubborn enough to waltz back into Nerine and demand an explanation, or even just apologize for hurting her in the first place - the very thing he’d almost-done several times but, unlike today he’d always retreated and on his way back that very autumn, had stumbled upon the black Hyalini mare instead. Things went downhill then.
Somewhere in the wildly loose thoughts he thinks about what he’s done, is wondering what this new ability if hers is, and if it recieves (probably it does) just like it gives - hopes she’ll never visit the base of the mountain, she would be horrified. Anyone would, even the ones not knowing him. Maybe just tell her - later. It’ll have to wait. He doesn’t think he can handle telling her all that had happened right away, maybe tomorrow, if she’ll let him stay that is. With one eye he looks at the cave entrance - pitch black outside, but not that much better for the weather. But he realizes something else.
”You’re cold.” Worry flashes across his face as he retreats from embracing her (reluctantly) to look her in the eye and see if she realized this fact herself, at all. Sure, her skin tried it’s best to keep the cold out, but she’s totally drenched and the evening wintery air is unforgiving, especially the cold winds that come in through the open cave entrance. His scales have kept him from fully soaking, and perhaps his attunement to ice has made him more resistant to the current temperature, but that doesn’t help her in any way. In fact his thicker skin may be less warm to the touch than it used to be, not sharing his body warmth so effectively any more. His abilities aren’t very helpful in warming her up or drying her either (freeze-drying is immediately discarded as the worst idea ever).
He moves, considers blocking her at least from the cave entrance with his own form, shielding her from the wind, but that won’t do long-term, she’s already cold so it’s not enough. Looking from her to the entrance, he considers if there’s a way of blocking it, or at least partly. Hmm. Perhaps he can, though it’s a bit of a risk. An experiment with new abilities. Still, with no other option, he does as he did the day Deiti bit him - with a shake of his head and will of his mind, there’s an outburst of cold, freezing the water just outside. Looking at his creation, a patch of ice and sharp ice spike crystals, he hums a bit to himself. Not exactly a great ice wall like he’d hoped. But when more rain comes down, he tries again with the ceiling. Maybe if the spikes fall down it’ll keep out part of the wind.
It’s hailstones and snowflakes now, also not entirely what he had intended, but with this he can be content. Soon enough there’s a small wall on one part of the cave, made of snow and ice, but leaving enough room on one side for a horse to pass through. Stepping back to admire his work, he then turns triumphantly to the spotted mare. ”That should keep out the worst of the wind.” His eyes flashing turquoise-green, then emerald like his mother’s original colour had been, long ago, as he continues. Though perhaps his mother never had such a mischievous look in her eyes, or not as often as he. ”Though of course, there’s other ways to keep warm at night.” Ah, but he just can’t help it. He doesn’t expect any more cuddles though. Not really. He doesn’t deserve them, doesn’t deserve her, this perfect stupid little love of his, this perfectly cute dotted being with her endless attenpts to make the world good and right. And as the colour turns back to the ice blue, he wonders if he should tell her why he doesn’t deserve her right away, or leave her under the inpression that the world is finally back on track, that everything is finally all right.
Finally, he remembers she said, and only then does he understand why - and opts to not tell her about the children and the fairy and the mermaid, not today. There’s tomorrow for that. Unless of course, she already knows. But if she doesn’t start about it, then he won’t either.
Finally.
Of all things he expected her to do or say - stay silent in defiance, tell him to go away because it does indeed make her happier to be alone than to see him, even tell him to stay, or starting to yell at him instead in well-deserved anger, or coldly tell him to drop dead, or that she doesn’t believe him - of all these things, the word ‘finally’ is the least expected and he can only stare at her.
He finds his voice when she finds her legs, so when she comes forward and he expects an angry blow but instead he recieves a soft touch, something like an embrace, he starts with a half question. ”What are you -“ Doing? Saying? Both could easily be the end of the question he’ll never have to ask, because the answer is suddenly in his head.
It reminds him of the swirls of colour he recieved when initiating for the brotherhood. But this time he knows the source, sees that damned day through her eyes, and understands that he’d triggered that fear in her that he was so afraid of triggering in the first place, that first day, when she would shyly and fleetingly react to his shameless flirting back in the forest’s creek - he knew then that going too fast would mean she’d run, but he’d never guessed that just the mention of a possibility of him being hurt, even when that danger had already been subsided, would do just the same thing. He’d honestly thought he’d said or done something to make her realize that she did not want his attention, not... not this.
And the fact that they hadn’t seen each other for so long had just implied that what he’d assumed then, was true. That she did not want him at all. That she thought they were better off alone, and if she thought so, it would probably be true.
Maybe his idiocy was contagious, or maybe they both always were equal idiots and he’d found his match in her.
Reaching down slowly when the vision she gave him ends, he rests his head around her neck and on her shoulder, thoughts running throught his mind without hold as he doesn’t even try to stop and look at them. He’s very silent, knows he shouldn’t be, but, he just can’t find the right words right away. He’s never been that good with words anyway. Sure, he pretends he is, but really, no. He’ll never make a diplomat, not a good one anyway, as he’s always told his leader.
He tries anyway, though. Perhaps he can make her laugh again after all this. ”You can’t just go and take all the blame here. I’m at least as much an idiot as you are.” he tugs her mane teasingly, though it’s a bit half-hearted. ”So does this mean I can officially keep annoying you from now on? You know I can do that forever if need be.” A serious question packed in an unserious tone - the usual, as it should be. It’s true though, the idiot part - he should have been stubborn enough to waltz back into Nerine and demand an explanation, or even just apologize for hurting her in the first place - the very thing he’d almost-done several times but, unlike today he’d always retreated and on his way back that very autumn, had stumbled upon the black Hyalini mare instead. Things went downhill then.
Somewhere in the wildly loose thoughts he thinks about what he’s done, is wondering what this new ability if hers is, and if it recieves (probably it does) just like it gives - hopes she’ll never visit the base of the mountain, she would be horrified. Anyone would, even the ones not knowing him. Maybe just tell her - later. It’ll have to wait. He doesn’t think he can handle telling her all that had happened right away, maybe tomorrow, if she’ll let him stay that is. With one eye he looks at the cave entrance - pitch black outside, but not that much better for the weather. But he realizes something else.
”You’re cold.” Worry flashes across his face as he retreats from embracing her (reluctantly) to look her in the eye and see if she realized this fact herself, at all. Sure, her skin tried it’s best to keep the cold out, but she’s totally drenched and the evening wintery air is unforgiving, especially the cold winds that come in through the open cave entrance. His scales have kept him from fully soaking, and perhaps his attunement to ice has made him more resistant to the current temperature, but that doesn’t help her in any way. In fact his thicker skin may be less warm to the touch than it used to be, not sharing his body warmth so effectively any more. His abilities aren’t very helpful in warming her up or drying her either (freeze-drying is immediately discarded as the worst idea ever).
He moves, considers blocking her at least from the cave entrance with his own form, shielding her from the wind, but that won’t do long-term, she’s already cold so it’s not enough. Looking from her to the entrance, he considers if there’s a way of blocking it, or at least partly. Hmm. Perhaps he can, though it’s a bit of a risk. An experiment with new abilities. Still, with no other option, he does as he did the day Deiti bit him - with a shake of his head and will of his mind, there’s an outburst of cold, freezing the water just outside. Looking at his creation, a patch of ice and sharp ice spike crystals, he hums a bit to himself. Not exactly a great ice wall like he’d hoped. But when more rain comes down, he tries again with the ceiling. Maybe if the spikes fall down it’ll keep out part of the wind.
It’s hailstones and snowflakes now, also not entirely what he had intended, but with this he can be content. Soon enough there’s a small wall on one part of the cave, made of snow and ice, but leaving enough room on one side for a horse to pass through. Stepping back to admire his work, he then turns triumphantly to the spotted mare. ”That should keep out the worst of the wind.” His eyes flashing turquoise-green, then emerald like his mother’s original colour had been, long ago, as he continues. Though perhaps his mother never had such a mischievous look in her eyes, or not as often as he. ”Though of course, there’s other ways to keep warm at night.” Ah, but he just can’t help it. He doesn’t expect any more cuddles though. Not really. He doesn’t deserve them, doesn’t deserve her, this perfect stupid little love of his, this perfectly cute dotted being with her endless attenpts to make the world good and right. And as the colour turns back to the ice blue, he wonders if he should tell her why he doesn’t deserve her right away, or leave her under the inpression that the world is finally back on track, that everything is finally all right.
Finally, he remembers she said, and only then does he understand why - and opts to not tell her about the children and the fairy and the mermaid, not today. There’s tomorrow for that. Unless of course, she already knows. But if she doesn’t start about it, then he won’t either.
@[Breckin]
Just about enough rambling to make sense, considering the situation
And here’s some rambling from meeee
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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