02-10-2024, 09:46 PM
OAKS
you look well suited
like you came to win
Canyons and little valleys surround them, dusty and dry unlike the pleasant glades he’d come to know. This place is different. It feels somehow separate, nearly unnatural compared to the rest of the typical greenery of Beqanna.
If only he knew its true origins and the god who’d created it.
He thinks vaguely of what Zain had mentioned before. ‘Servant of Carnage,’ he’d called himself. Without context, it sounded more like the painted derelict had meant to imply that he is a vassal of chaos and malice, of death. With his appearance, Oaks could understand such a claim. He is yet unaware of the fickle god to which the other stallion had truly been referring.
Such is the virginal state of the spotted recluse’s mind.
Zain continues their conversation as they wander the bleak landscape, asking after Oaks’ unfortunate lot in life. He considers his answer for a moment longer while Zain explains his own experiences which seemed, surprisingly, much like his own.
“Since I was born, yes,” he replies to the question asked. “Did someone help you learn to control it?” A nearly boyish wonder tinges his voice and his ears perk, hopeful for any leads that may help him discover the root of his problems.
Before he can ask more, though, a glimmering movement interrupts him. Oaks halts with a quiet huff, head flinching upward as he focuses first on Margot as she speaks before glancing to Zain as if presuming the other stallion would take the lead on this encounter. Something about the mare seems nearly proprietorial, as if she had sprung from the land itself just to greet them. Indeed, she’s the only one Oaks had seen actually appear from within the territory.
Curiously eyeing the sleek texture of her body, he shifts just slightly nearer to his undead companion before he returns her greeting. “Hello to you as well, also-stranger,” he says plainly with a vague, wry smile. Much as he’d like to offer his name, he resists for now – Beyza (who is still nameless to him) had left enough of an impression with her mystery during their encounter just shortly before now that, childishly, he tries to mimic that reticence now.
If only he knew its true origins and the god who’d created it.
He thinks vaguely of what Zain had mentioned before. ‘Servant of Carnage,’ he’d called himself. Without context, it sounded more like the painted derelict had meant to imply that he is a vassal of chaos and malice, of death. With his appearance, Oaks could understand such a claim. He is yet unaware of the fickle god to which the other stallion had truly been referring.
Such is the virginal state of the spotted recluse’s mind.
Zain continues their conversation as they wander the bleak landscape, asking after Oaks’ unfortunate lot in life. He considers his answer for a moment longer while Zain explains his own experiences which seemed, surprisingly, much like his own.
“Since I was born, yes,” he replies to the question asked. “Did someone help you learn to control it?” A nearly boyish wonder tinges his voice and his ears perk, hopeful for any leads that may help him discover the root of his problems.
Before he can ask more, though, a glimmering movement interrupts him. Oaks halts with a quiet huff, head flinching upward as he focuses first on Margot as she speaks before glancing to Zain as if presuming the other stallion would take the lead on this encounter. Something about the mare seems nearly proprietorial, as if she had sprung from the land itself just to greet them. Indeed, she’s the only one Oaks had seen actually appear from within the territory.
Curiously eyeing the sleek texture of her body, he shifts just slightly nearer to his undead companion before he returns her greeting. “Hello to you as well, also-stranger,” he says plainly with a vague, wry smile. Much as he’d like to offer his name, he resists for now – Beyza (who is still nameless to him) had left enough of an impression with her mystery during their encounter just shortly before now that, childishly, he tries to mimic that reticence now.
@
Zain@
margot