10-14-2020, 08:05 PM
I got extra feelings
The big cat sat, then licked its paw. Yanhua waited in disbelief, one breath still painfully stuck in his lungs until he heard a muffled sound in the quiet distance. His ears flicked up - he wanted to turn away and look but instinct prevented it. What idiot took their eyes off a hellish beast like this one? Paw licks or not, Yanhua was two seconds away from making a run for it when that distant sound grew closer, and the sharp chirp of “Calypso!” stopped him dead in his tracks.
Wait, what? He pondered silently when the voice took on a shape, appearing from between the fruitful trees like a dark dryad. If he was confused before, now Yanhua was awestruck; who was she? What a strange little mare! Dressed up in her best black and wearing colors he’d never seen before (though the tint of her mane struck a chord for Yan - she reminded him of Amarine and her blue jewels.) And what, he wondered, was a thing like her doing with a creature like that?
“Rosemary…” Yan looked at her with the softest of blue eyes and smiled, half-amused. She gave her companion’s name and suddenly, Yanhua realized he’d forgotten all about the big cat! He turned a sheepish, apologetic expression toward Calypso and dipped his horns silently.
“Who am I?” Yanhua relaxed and reiterated the question playfully, brows rising. “According to you I’m a friend.” He laughed broadly, causing the pale tassels of hair hanging from his chin to quiver. Rosemary wasn’t wrong: Yanhua wouldn’t hurt her. However, aside from his genteel manners that might be hard to discern off first impressions. For starters, there was nothing small or dainty about Yan that would suggest his being soft or sweet. He was lean, muscle-hardened from the few years of patrolling all alone in the Taiga wilderness, and impressively tall given his lineage. Where he’d acquired it from, no one knew. The athleticism could be blamed on his environment. Winters up north could be harsh; not an ounce of flesh on him was wasted by unnecessary fat.
If that weren’t enough in and of itself, Yanhua’s backward-arcing horns made him seem even taller than normal, always casting shadows and reflecting light when he swung his head around or scratched an itch. He’d always assumed that he gathered a somewhat imposing aura around him, and here was Rosemary to put all that nonsense to bed. Perhaps she’s gifted, Yan considered, curious enough to just barely open up the channel of empathic magic he had in hopes of catching an echo that might unveil a bit of the mystery surrounding the strange duo, but he received nothing and promptly closed it off again.
“My name is Yanhua, Rosemary.” He picked up not a moment later, continuing where he’d left off as if nothing had passed through his mind at all. “I’m on my way south from Taiga, headed for the Alliance tournament. Didn’t think I’d run into something like your Calypso there, but here we are.” He smiled handsomely, happy for the company that only moments ago he’d been dreading. “Is this your grove of apples, then?”
PERSONALITY | HISTORY | REFERENCESWait, what? He pondered silently when the voice took on a shape, appearing from between the fruitful trees like a dark dryad. If he was confused before, now Yanhua was awestruck; who was she? What a strange little mare! Dressed up in her best black and wearing colors he’d never seen before (though the tint of her mane struck a chord for Yan - she reminded him of Amarine and her blue jewels.) And what, he wondered, was a thing like her doing with a creature like that?
“Rosemary…” Yan looked at her with the softest of blue eyes and smiled, half-amused. She gave her companion’s name and suddenly, Yanhua realized he’d forgotten all about the big cat! He turned a sheepish, apologetic expression toward Calypso and dipped his horns silently.
“Who am I?” Yanhua relaxed and reiterated the question playfully, brows rising. “According to you I’m a friend.” He laughed broadly, causing the pale tassels of hair hanging from his chin to quiver. Rosemary wasn’t wrong: Yanhua wouldn’t hurt her. However, aside from his genteel manners that might be hard to discern off first impressions. For starters, there was nothing small or dainty about Yan that would suggest his being soft or sweet. He was lean, muscle-hardened from the few years of patrolling all alone in the Taiga wilderness, and impressively tall given his lineage. Where he’d acquired it from, no one knew. The athleticism could be blamed on his environment. Winters up north could be harsh; not an ounce of flesh on him was wasted by unnecessary fat.
If that weren’t enough in and of itself, Yanhua’s backward-arcing horns made him seem even taller than normal, always casting shadows and reflecting light when he swung his head around or scratched an itch. He’d always assumed that he gathered a somewhat imposing aura around him, and here was Rosemary to put all that nonsense to bed. Perhaps she’s gifted, Yan considered, curious enough to just barely open up the channel of empathic magic he had in hopes of catching an echo that might unveil a bit of the mystery surrounding the strange duo, but he received nothing and promptly closed it off again.
“My name is Yanhua, Rosemary.” He picked up not a moment later, continuing where he’d left off as if nothing had passed through his mind at all. “I’m on my way south from Taiga, headed for the Alliance tournament. Didn’t think I’d run into something like your Calypso there, but here we are.” He smiled handsomely, happy for the company that only moments ago he’d been dreading. “Is this your grove of apples, then?”
@[Rosemary]