05-22-2018, 05:57 PM
the secret of our world is written in the stars
He had been coming and going as of late, never really knowing where he is going until he wakes up in the morning and decides to move. A lot of his time has been spent in the riverlands, where many had been traveling with its tendency to continue to run fast and steadily despite winter’s freeze. His ventures there were quite productive, and he rather enjoyed the strangers he met along the way, even if they did not return with him. He’d see them again, he knew, because he believed it. Svedka had been heading towards the top of the mountainous valley and towards the river, set on finding the winged woman or the sea-maiden once again, but is stopped by a familiar voice that he had never truly forgotten.
He turns his head over his shoulder, a mischievous smile pulling on his pale lips. Suddenly he is brought back to days beneath the volcano, where a trio of foals played pretend, and formed a bond that would not easily be broken. Svedka wonders mildly to himself if Smoak had though he was someone else (it would not be the first time he had been mistaken for Solace, with their closely matching skin and unmistakable blue in their manes and tails), but the thought quickly dissipates as the bone-armored stallion - tall and lean and thin - comes to stand beside him.
Smoak is much taller than Svedka (the mustang runs deep in his blood), but the pale gold and white stallion does not allow that fact to bother him. He makes up for it in other ways, such as his inability to keep his thoughts to himself or his electric and contagious smile. “Smoak,” he replies in greeting, his cerulean gaze sparkling with mirth, “likewise, brother.” Svedka pauses, thinking for a moment, then deciding it is best not to think before speaking.
“I thought I was the only one Solace worried about disappearing into nothingness,” he tells Smoak, and though there is laughter in his voice, he cannot hide the shimmer of emotion that touches his eyes - he had missed his friend more than Smoak would probably be able to imagine.
He turns his head over his shoulder, a mischievous smile pulling on his pale lips. Suddenly he is brought back to days beneath the volcano, where a trio of foals played pretend, and formed a bond that would not easily be broken. Svedka wonders mildly to himself if Smoak had though he was someone else (it would not be the first time he had been mistaken for Solace, with their closely matching skin and unmistakable blue in their manes and tails), but the thought quickly dissipates as the bone-armored stallion - tall and lean and thin - comes to stand beside him.
Smoak is much taller than Svedka (the mustang runs deep in his blood), but the pale gold and white stallion does not allow that fact to bother him. He makes up for it in other ways, such as his inability to keep his thoughts to himself or his electric and contagious smile. “Smoak,” he replies in greeting, his cerulean gaze sparkling with mirth, “likewise, brother.” Svedka pauses, thinking for a moment, then deciding it is best not to think before speaking.
“I thought I was the only one Solace worried about disappearing into nothingness,” he tells Smoak, and though there is laughter in his voice, he cannot hide the shimmer of emotion that touches his eyes - he had missed his friend more than Smoak would probably be able to imagine.
(be my escape)
Svedka
@[Smoak]
/chest bump but with tears in eyes