11-03-2015, 08:19 PM
 Like a thorn to the holy ones The darkened tip of perked forward, as Magnus spoke. There is something his laid back presence is hiding, it could be something small, or something grand. The young stallion was not sure, but his broad answers to specific questions told the him there was more to the story. Nymphetamine is not one to pry but who would not go to this heavenly place if there is hell waiting for him. He is not against hard work. While he would have been heir before he fled his old home, he was told if he hadn't earned it, there would be a regent. He would earn the title, like anyone else. The blood stag was proud of his work ethic, it helped him know himself. Sharp pools took focus on the lass. She seemed to be cordial to the sandy stag and himself but here eyes lingered on him more so than the sandy stag. He was young, but not clueless-- there could be something there. The blood bay tilted his head, as she asked about his name. He choked back a full on guffaw. Only his mother had ever called him 'Nymph' and after he was weaned he had began begging her not to call him that. "Nymph" always seemed so girly-- River spirits, and baby bugs and what have you. If the fae had been elderly, maternal, then maybe he'd allow it. But he didn't think of this fae that way, and wasn't in a hurry to start. I am sorry Keeva, I mean no disrespect, nor do I laugh at you. My mother has been the only one to call me Nymph, and it was only because i could not stop her. Nymph has always struck me as feminine and I have no wish for you to see me as such, nor do i wish to view you as my mother. The frankness of the statement was ridiculous enough to make him chuckle at himself. The laugh rolled through his body and he shook his head as if that made everything clear and in a more....suave fashion. As he gained his composure his tones were lighter as he began to speak- the laugh still floating away through his words. If it wouldn't be too much of a hindrance, I'd prefer Nymphetamine...all things considered. He flashed a grin. What else could he do. Pupils contracted and his smile faded as the lass spoke of the fire.... The Gates had a fire too? Was this what was behind the slight flicker in Magnus's eye? the reason he wasn't too direct? I doubt the stag will talk free with the lass here, and I need to talk to him more, about his lands' history if I am to go to the gates. The lass knew as well as he that their conversation would continue later, elsewhere. as if they had the thought at the same time... or at least he hoped they did...she asked if she were intruding. Nymphetamine shook his head kindly. nay, miss. You are not intruding. But you have brought to light something I think best discussed privately. May I come find you in the meadow later? After we finish? The diplomate came through for him this time, his tones rang clear, deep and confident. He much expected she would be willing to talk further, just later, alone. His eyes and turned to focus solely on the stag. He had things to tell him, and a question that not be answered vaguely. Oldman, I think we have some news we best share with each other He tone was serious and straight forward. He had a decision to make, but needed directness... sooner rather than later. The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian They Run From Him at: 16.2 He’s made it this far: 2 years Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up. Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your lowliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision Sunsetter... Nymphetamine HTML Copyright To Tay. |