i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
The grin sits easily on his lips, unfaltering beneath her initial uncertainty, only deepening when she begins to relax. She questions him about the horrible things, but his attention is caught by the pebbles that shift and rise, morphing before his very eyes. They spur his curiosity to greater heights, untempered even when they are flung at the bones jutting from his skin. He doesn’t flinch beneath them, instead laughing as his attention is drawn back to her.
He merely shrugs at her apology before turning his sharp gaze to the stallion that had just joined them, wild claims upon his lips.
His eyes rake over the newcomer, seeing far more with that one glance than most would discover over hours of conversation. With the grin on his lips morphing into something decidedly more wicked, he clips back with humor on his tongue, “I might have asked if you always enjoy such pretense, but I can already see that you do.”
Turning back to the spotted mare, Reave’s grin widens. “I would describe them for you, but they often defy description.” He pauses, head tilting slightly before adding, “But perhaps one day I will show you.”
It would be so easy to imagine Reave himself as one, despite Obscene’s ready claim to it. With the carnage of bone and skin he wears, he certainly appears far more fitting of the part than the fae beauty and glib tongue of the other stallion. A barbarian and a noble, side by side.
The irony is not lost on the bone-armored Guardian.
Though Obscene is ready with compliments, Reave is not. Nor does he even try. He is not a man for spouting nonsense, nor would he become one for even a creature as lovely and obviously talented as the young mare before him. Her reply draws a brief chuckle from his throat as he slides a wry glance towards the silver-tongued stallion. “Ah, but flowers can be weeds too, can’t they?”
He grins at Nereza, impudence lining his shrouded features. “I’m Reave.”
reave
@Obscene @Nereza