10-08-2015, 11:55 AM
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
She is kind, sympathizing with his grief, his loss, and for that he is grateful. He had not realized how much he missed having the comfort of another in his grief. Val is gone, nowhere to be found. She should have been there, just as he had. He can only believe that something terrible had happened to her. She would never have left, disappeared, the way she did, not unless something had happened. But that is a worry for another time, another place. There are others who could help him with that. Camrynn, perhaps (little does he know).
As the grin eases back onto his lips, he tips his head in the direction of the Deserts. Turning, he waits until she comes alongside him before beginning the (fortunately short) journey back to his (and now hopefully her) desert homeland. As they walk, his dark eyes sparkle with humor.
You can’t possibly be worse than me?
His tone is filled with humor as he speaks. A small, affected frown touches his lips to emphasize his next point.
I seem to have a really terrible habit of running into horses. You’re lucky I haven’t managed to bowl you over yet.
He finds it very difficult to hold that false frown when what he really would like to do is laugh. And so he does. He has never been very good a restraint. When she continues, assigning him a rather embarrassing new nickname, he cannot help the deep guffaw that escapes his lips.
King Prancealot?!
Extending his neck, he nudges her shoulder teasingly.
I’m certain I am not the king of prancing. Call me that again, I dare you.
He chuckles, offering her a conspiratorial wink as he teases her. Their conversation consumes there trip to the Deserts, and before he knows it, the sand dunes of his home begin to take shape before him. He gazes out of the vast expanse for a long moment before turning his chocolate brown gaze to the small mare beside him.
Well, here we are. Welcome to the Deserts.
As the grin eases back onto his lips, he tips his head in the direction of the Deserts. Turning, he waits until she comes alongside him before beginning the (fortunately short) journey back to his (and now hopefully her) desert homeland. As they walk, his dark eyes sparkle with humor.
You can’t possibly be worse than me?
His tone is filled with humor as he speaks. A small, affected frown touches his lips to emphasize his next point.
I seem to have a really terrible habit of running into horses. You’re lucky I haven’t managed to bowl you over yet.
He finds it very difficult to hold that false frown when what he really would like to do is laugh. And so he does. He has never been very good a restraint. When she continues, assigning him a rather embarrassing new nickname, he cannot help the deep guffaw that escapes his lips.
King Prancealot?!
Extending his neck, he nudges her shoulder teasingly.
I’m certain I am not the king of prancing. Call me that again, I dare you.
He chuckles, offering her a conspiratorial wink as he teases her. Their conversation consumes there trip to the Deserts, and before he knows it, the sand dunes of his home begin to take shape before him. He gazes out of the vast expanse for a long moment before turning his chocolate brown gaze to the small mare beside him.
Well, here we are. Welcome to the Deserts.
shahrizai
hestoni x scorch
@[Hoku] I'm so sorry this took so long!