resurrect the saint within the wretch
The darkness in Warden’s eyes now swims with the reflection of silvery-blue light, surprise also brought to life within them as the glowing orb bounds towards him. His relatives were known for their wielding of light and for a moment he thinks of Rhaegar specifically - but in his thoughts he realizes that this isn’t exactly the same thing and though it is unlike the horned stallion to be, he is curious. Warden finds himself blinking and near-blind by the intensity of the light that buzzes with energy, turning his ivory face away from it and lowering his head, attempting to peer up at Lilliana between his spiraling horns.
“A new friend, Lilliana?” His voice is a grumble in its stony tone, but there is a playfulness that dances in his eyes. Maybe it is the bouncing ball of light that brings out this side of him or the fact that it is making it very clear that it is not a fan of Warden. The stallion raises his head as the light moves upwards, hovering above them like a spotlight and painting the white snow in its blue light, sending the landscape glittering. “You’ve named him?” There is a quirk to his brows as his gaze falls back to Lilliana, not yet understanding that Leonidas had his name long before he had come to the chestnut mare.
A friend.
The way she describes him makes him tilt his head slightly, lifting his chin upwards to inspect the light once again. He wonders how she’s decided what to call him - a friend - when their encounters have always left both of them reeling and emotionally drained. Is she as tense as he is, waiting for the moment where his eyes turn milky white and he leaves them, only to return with visions that she can’t help but see? He snorts softly, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. Had what he saw come to fruition?
He hesitates, debating inwardly before finally asking: “How are things?”
An innocent enough question, but for the two of them, it holds much more.
@[lilliana]