06-29-2017, 06:55 PM
He’s completely unaware of the heavy weight that is carried when the name Offspring leaves his lips. The name has no sort of hold on him as of yet, not like those who have been in Beqanna since their births and have lived within its borders to watch their world rise and fall with new kings and queens, with war and peace. Warrick is unfamiliar with the names and characters that surrounds Beqanna’s past – all he knows is his mother, Orani, and his twin sister, Beyah; they are both his only true links to Beqanna and what used to be the Gates, but their wayward ways kept him far from his home, and once they disappeared, he returned to realize that he does not remember much from his years as a colt.
Warrick is at ease beside her (because he always is at ease when he is surrounded by others to occupy his mind), enjoying the gentle autumnal breeze that flows through Tephra. Granted, it is not as cool or dry as anywhere else in Beqanna – the humidity still clings tight to those within its borders and thickness of the air is tight with moisture and sulfur in their throats. Nevertheless, the air is a few degrees cooler and just a bit less unforgiving, the gentle sunlight filtering through bracken and branches of thick foliage above them to play golden patterns on their hide as they stand side by side. She does not correct him when he fumbles with the word sentry and he decides that maybe that was the best description for his duty after all, and would most likely continue to use it in his future interactions.
“I appreciate the guidance.”
A hint of a smile finds her (he’s not sure by looking at her, but he can almost hear it in her voice) and he responds a chuckle of his own and a regal dip of his head, almost as if he was about to bow to her, most definitely trying to be ironic. His blue lips part to reveal a grin, hoping that he is able to make her a little bit more comfortable in such a strange and foreign world to her.
Especially one where a battle is not currently raging, or the scream and sweat from mocks are not on the wind.
“Just because it’s all you know doesn’t mean it’s all you can know,” he says to her simply, accompanied by a gentle roll of his auburn shoulders. His cerulean blue eyes shift to her, a single brow rising in thought. “I’ve never fought. Not even to pretend when I was a child,” he says musingly, admitting a realization to her that he hadn’t truly thought about (he hadn’t needed to). “From your experience, is it hard to learn? The techniques, I mean.”
Warrick is at ease beside her (because he always is at ease when he is surrounded by others to occupy his mind), enjoying the gentle autumnal breeze that flows through Tephra. Granted, it is not as cool or dry as anywhere else in Beqanna – the humidity still clings tight to those within its borders and thickness of the air is tight with moisture and sulfur in their throats. Nevertheless, the air is a few degrees cooler and just a bit less unforgiving, the gentle sunlight filtering through bracken and branches of thick foliage above them to play golden patterns on their hide as they stand side by side. She does not correct him when he fumbles with the word sentry and he decides that maybe that was the best description for his duty after all, and would most likely continue to use it in his future interactions.
“I appreciate the guidance.”
A hint of a smile finds her (he’s not sure by looking at her, but he can almost hear it in her voice) and he responds a chuckle of his own and a regal dip of his head, almost as if he was about to bow to her, most definitely trying to be ironic. His blue lips part to reveal a grin, hoping that he is able to make her a little bit more comfortable in such a strange and foreign world to her.
Especially one where a battle is not currently raging, or the scream and sweat from mocks are not on the wind.
“Just because it’s all you know doesn’t mean it’s all you can know,” he says to her simply, accompanied by a gentle roll of his auburn shoulders. His cerulean blue eyes shift to her, a single brow rising in thought. “I’ve never fought. Not even to pretend when I was a child,” he says musingly, admitting a realization to her that he hadn’t truly thought about (he hadn’t needed to). “From your experience, is it hard to learn? The techniques, I mean.”
like the sun,
swallowed up by the earth
warrick
@[Thorunn]