03-09-2017, 09:05 PM
He was a creature of habit.
Where Nayl sought to rule, he quietly stays at her side like the loyal subject she asks of him. But sometimes he must slip away from the salt ridden shores of Nerine, burn away the sea air with the scent of decaying vegetation, blot out the sun with tall tree limbs. In this time, he can reflect, reassure himself that he is doing what is asked. He protects the painted queen, guards her, is whatever she asks of him.
But on this day, he has gone to visit the forest to replenish the quiet solitude he seeks, fill his lungs with the chilled air of a cave long since gone. The heavy male stands in a small trickling creek, hooves wet and glinting as he enjoys the caress of the water, lips tasting the earth and all her bountiful richness.
Then he hears his name...
The dragon in him snarls instinctively, his sight and hearing sharp and suspicious. The leather wings remain tucked at his spine, claws careful to snag any careless challenger that tasted his name. Heavy skull lifts against the backdrop of the forest, silver eyes watching for a break in the scenery, the drop of dead leaves minor distractions against his abilities. In the next beat of his dark heart, the familiar buckskin mare, from a month or so ago, appears.
She is the taster of his name, creaking and damaged upon her dark lips. Lashes and lids fall over the mercury eyes eyes temporarily as he blinks, wondering what this woman wanted of him. Legs pull him from the cobblestone creek, sloshing the water with him, spattering his dark skin. "Carli." He speaks low with a nod. His head seemed so heavy with thoughts of Nayl, their child, what the future held that he lacked typical formalities between friends.
The scent of raw pain, fear, hurt washes over him in the next press of chilled winter air. The black booted mare from before, lively and coy, is replaced by a fractured replica. Lior does not understand. "What happened?" The question is direst as he looks down to her, enough space provided so he does not crowd her, as he always remains respectful above else. Both ears rotate forward in the nest of tangled locks as he listens for her reply under the weight of his gaze.
Where Nayl sought to rule, he quietly stays at her side like the loyal subject she asks of him. But sometimes he must slip away from the salt ridden shores of Nerine, burn away the sea air with the scent of decaying vegetation, blot out the sun with tall tree limbs. In this time, he can reflect, reassure himself that he is doing what is asked. He protects the painted queen, guards her, is whatever she asks of him.
But on this day, he has gone to visit the forest to replenish the quiet solitude he seeks, fill his lungs with the chilled air of a cave long since gone. The heavy male stands in a small trickling creek, hooves wet and glinting as he enjoys the caress of the water, lips tasting the earth and all her bountiful richness.
Then he hears his name...
The dragon in him snarls instinctively, his sight and hearing sharp and suspicious. The leather wings remain tucked at his spine, claws careful to snag any careless challenger that tasted his name. Heavy skull lifts against the backdrop of the forest, silver eyes watching for a break in the scenery, the drop of dead leaves minor distractions against his abilities. In the next beat of his dark heart, the familiar buckskin mare, from a month or so ago, appears.
She is the taster of his name, creaking and damaged upon her dark lips. Lashes and lids fall over the mercury eyes eyes temporarily as he blinks, wondering what this woman wanted of him. Legs pull him from the cobblestone creek, sloshing the water with him, spattering his dark skin. "Carli." He speaks low with a nod. His head seemed so heavy with thoughts of Nayl, their child, what the future held that he lacked typical formalities between friends.
The scent of raw pain, fear, hurt washes over him in the next press of chilled winter air. The black booted mare from before, lively and coy, is replaced by a fractured replica. Lior does not understand. "What happened?" The question is direst as he looks down to her, enough space provided so he does not crowd her, as he always remains respectful above else. Both ears rotate forward in the nest of tangled locks as he listens for her reply under the weight of his gaze.