07-27-2020, 08:04 PM
The mare tilts her head at him, first one way, then the other, a bit like a bird trying to judge a distance or a shadow against the leaves, a bit like a dog coyly considering a command it does not like. Her eyes sparkle like the lightning that fades out against her chest as he questions her and for a moment it almost looks as if she is reflecting on his question.
She isn't.
She is, instead, thinking about how when someone is crazy, they don’t think that they are. She is taking his refutation as confirmation of the thing and if it were at all possible for that madcap grin to grow wider or wilder, it would.
“I knew I was gonna like you,” the seal bay chirps in answer to his question, jigging sideways a bit so that her haunches swing her closer to him, "and since I like you, I'm gonna help you."
No sooner do the words leave her lips but she arches her neck, looking down to the wet ground, striking it sharply with grey forehooves several times in quick succession. The mud flies, clods of it spattering into the air around them, bursting against faces, chests, and shoulders. A gob of it has marred the bright star on her forehead that struggles gamely to beam out from beneath her curling forelock until, breathless, she stops abruptly and looks up at the great behemoth again.
"There now, not so clean anymore, right? See? I told you I could help." But she frowns and rolls an eye at him anyway, "You'll want to smile though when you go see the Fairies. I bet you're almost handsome when you smile!"
She isn't.
She is, instead, thinking about how when someone is crazy, they don’t think that they are. She is taking his refutation as confirmation of the thing and if it were at all possible for that madcap grin to grow wider or wilder, it would.
“I knew I was gonna like you,” the seal bay chirps in answer to his question, jigging sideways a bit so that her haunches swing her closer to him, "and since I like you, I'm gonna help you."
No sooner do the words leave her lips but she arches her neck, looking down to the wet ground, striking it sharply with grey forehooves several times in quick succession. The mud flies, clods of it spattering into the air around them, bursting against faces, chests, and shoulders. A gob of it has marred the bright star on her forehead that struggles gamely to beam out from beneath her curling forelock until, breathless, she stops abruptly and looks up at the great behemoth again.
"There now, not so clean anymore, right? See? I told you I could help." But she frowns and rolls an eye at him anyway, "You'll want to smile though when you go see the Fairies. I bet you're almost handsome when you smile!"
@[morrowind]
