He can't help it. The mare speaks kindly enough to his daughter but there's a flare of hot anger in his chest when she does, one that makes the muscles of his cheeks ripples with the squeaking grind of his teeth. Gilda takes no real notice, young enough still to be oblivious to the danger of the dark world she was born into. Peering beneath the silvery skin of her father's belly, the small wings flare proudly when Aquaria speaks to her. The next instant they are flat and tight and nervous, pressing close to her golden cheek as the Ischian Dame crumples to the earth and the girl startles backward, landing in an awkward seated position.
Dace is already lunging forward, though she reaches earth before he can span the couple strides between them, the anger of moments before left in his wake. Instead, there is a re-awakening of that former boldness that once defined him as he forgets the crooning, jibing, creatures crawling through the jungle's deep shadow.
"Woah, woah, hey. Shit." He's at her side now, a bracing foreleg bearing the weight of her shoulder so that she can stay upright despite the awkward angle of her hind leg. She asks for Wishbone and he can only shake his head, remorse staining the lines of his face because he does not know a Wishbone. He has only come here since the day was shattered, since he found himself responsible for the gold-scaled girl finding her feet again and pausing curiously to watch them. He knows she is thinking of coming over (because she is unafraid, and because she has followed his every step since her mother left,) but it isn't within his ability to stop her and to support the weakened mare.
"No," regret thickens his tongue, "but we're new here. I'm sure we could find her if you could only stand." He knows, too, that there is a waterfall that could heal her, and though he hasn't been to it, the wind-sound of its rushing waters breaks the unnatural silence that surrounds them. The pale locks of his tail betray his frustration as Gilda finally rallies the courage to approach them, picking her way on long, careful legs until she is close enough to brush her delicate muzzle against the fine scales of Aquaria's.
"I have scales, too!" Heedless of the Dame's condition, she grins, nervous wings relaxing, and swings her head back to gesture at the scaled markings on her own skin before turning back to Aquaria with a whisper.
"I can't really fly, but I can run really fast."
Dace is already lunging forward, though she reaches earth before he can span the couple strides between them, the anger of moments before left in his wake. Instead, there is a re-awakening of that former boldness that once defined him as he forgets the crooning, jibing, creatures crawling through the jungle's deep shadow.
"Woah, woah, hey. Shit." He's at her side now, a bracing foreleg bearing the weight of her shoulder so that she can stay upright despite the awkward angle of her hind leg. She asks for Wishbone and he can only shake his head, remorse staining the lines of his face because he does not know a Wishbone. He has only come here since the day was shattered, since he found himself responsible for the gold-scaled girl finding her feet again and pausing curiously to watch them. He knows she is thinking of coming over (because she is unafraid, and because she has followed his every step since her mother left,) but it isn't within his ability to stop her and to support the weakened mare.
"No," regret thickens his tongue, "but we're new here. I'm sure we could find her if you could only stand." He knows, too, that there is a waterfall that could heal her, and though he hasn't been to it, the wind-sound of its rushing waters breaks the unnatural silence that surrounds them. The pale locks of his tail betray his frustration as Gilda finally rallies the courage to approach them, picking her way on long, careful legs until she is close enough to brush her delicate muzzle against the fine scales of Aquaria's.
"I have scales, too!" Heedless of the Dame's condition, she grins, nervous wings relaxing, and swings her head back to gesture at the scaled markings on her own skin before turning back to Aquaria with a whisper.
"I can't really fly, but I can run really fast."
@[Aquaria]
