Tiberios
06-07-2021, 11:14 AM
I can see the fire's still alight
He’d been studying her expression in the dark shadows cast by the glow coming off her pelt. Something about the childishness in her tone and manner didn’t quite add up to the maturity written into her lovely skin. She frowned, a bit distant in the eye whenever Tib tried to catch its focus, and her soft reply to his statement only led him to further believe that all of the pieces of her were scattered around in her head.
But then she surprised him, as horses often did.
The haze cleared, leading her to bite back at Tib with as much force and alacrity as he’d come to expect from a petulant yearling. He considered her argument for half a second and dismissed it quickly, unamused and unimpressed with the flare that was meant to wound or emasculate him. Her words were like dry sparks falling haplessly against him; their burn weakened by a truth he knows - and Tiberios tells her as much.
“Monsters don’t have names.” He reminded her quietly when the theatrics had passed and her head returned to its indifferent state. Tiberios had one because he was not a monster, but Brunhilde was clearly unwilling to admit that. He then reserved the right to keep it hidden from her, and school her in the same sentence. “And you?” He scoffed, unfinished.
“You’re no woman.” Tiberios frowned at the mare, turning afterwards to face the dark beyond them with a movement of his head that revealed the ruined part of his shoulder and neck.
Once upon a time he had loved such a mare. A woman so true to the word that even her bodily form could not be tarnished by the hooves of those who would see her undone. Talulah had won him over completely; Tiberios had given her his soul and known from the first aching glance that he had loved and been loved by her, and that inside of her lay a home all its own. Only a woman could do that. She would’ve never pitted her experiences against a stranger’s. Brunhilde was a child and she spoke like one, even if she didn’t look the part.
“You must be lost.” He guessed randomly, turning back to face the ire of the moment. “Why else would you be out here?”
But then she surprised him, as horses often did.
The haze cleared, leading her to bite back at Tib with as much force and alacrity as he’d come to expect from a petulant yearling. He considered her argument for half a second and dismissed it quickly, unamused and unimpressed with the flare that was meant to wound or emasculate him. Her words were like dry sparks falling haplessly against him; their burn weakened by a truth he knows - and Tiberios tells her as much.
“Monsters don’t have names.” He reminded her quietly when the theatrics had passed and her head returned to its indifferent state. Tiberios had one because he was not a monster, but Brunhilde was clearly unwilling to admit that. He then reserved the right to keep it hidden from her, and school her in the same sentence. “And you?” He scoffed, unfinished.
“You’re no woman.” Tiberios frowned at the mare, turning afterwards to face the dark beyond them with a movement of his head that revealed the ruined part of his shoulder and neck.
Once upon a time he had loved such a mare. A woman so true to the word that even her bodily form could not be tarnished by the hooves of those who would see her undone. Talulah had won him over completely; Tiberios had given her his soul and known from the first aching glance that he had loved and been loved by her, and that inside of her lay a home all its own. Only a woman could do that. She would’ve never pitted her experiences against a stranger’s. Brunhilde was a child and she spoke like one, even if she didn’t look the part.
“You must be lost.” He guessed randomly, turning back to face the ire of the moment. “Why else would you be out here?”
@[brunhilde]