06-29-2021, 02:03 PM
I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
There is plotting in the South, the rise of something terrible in the East, and the North and West seem to be holding their breath for what’s to come next. Tension begins to stir in the currents of the wind but the sun still rises and birds still sing and seasons pass as the earth revolves without a thought for any of them. It cares little for their schemes and hunger for power, little for their greed or even those that live a humble life on its back. It just exists and spins and remembers how often it’s seen all these things play out before. And how it will still be here long after those stories are played out and then forgotten only to play out the same story again and again and again.
The autumn chill is turning into something more frigid and he can sense the coming of snow in the air. The wildflowers have slowly started to wilt (stubborn as he is) in the face of Old Man Winter and although the stream still bubbles with life, he expects to find it frosted within the week. For now he stands amongst the remaining blooms, wandering aimlessly amongst his kingdom. For once he is alone by choice.
Aela had returned for good and he can’t help but shake the little “lesson” she had given him and what that might mean come spring. There’s a nagging feeling that he can’t shake but he does his best to ignore the little pull of worry that he might have made a very big mistake. He has no idea how to be a father and the little experience he has had with his own only leaves a sour aftertaste. Surely there was nothing to worry about though. He doesn’t even think of the mare whose name he has forgotten and whatever indiscretions had happened with Revelrie would surely not come to bite him in the ass. It had only been once after all.
It’s easier to forget about all that and chew over the bigger problems he faced. Like how every time he runs into Cheri he still wants to wipe that haughty grin from her mouth, preferably by using his own lips against her. Or how he can’t control this serpent inside him. Or perhaps even more problematic, the way he’s fallen for Aela. He knows that he is just a means to an end, that was how this had started for both of them. She needed his title and protection as much as he needed her power. It was beneficial to both of them, in the beginning.
And now… Now he’s not sure what lays behind her oceanic eyes when she looks at him just as much as he is unsure of what stirs in the cold recesses of his chest when she speaks of the ideas she has for them. Her ruthlessness can leave him breathless at times and he’s never met anyone whose been able to keep up with his sharp quips so well. There’s just one little thing that stands in the way and that is the difference in their ambition. She has mighty plans and he can see the worth in them but he has never been one that hungered for blood (with the exception of whatever the snake inside him feels) or war or meaningless destruction. He was a trickster and a prankster and he liked to see the smile crumble off another’s face with a well placed cutting word. He feels himself growing into his title and he finds that a crown fits him well. It doesn’t feel like a burden at all and he enjoys the pleasures that come with it, enough that maybe he can see that Aela has a point… That he could be more than a Prince.
But he has no desire to see the world burn like she does.
There is nothing that he would change in the golden striped mare. She is who she is and he accepts her for it. But can she accept him for who he truly is beneath his dark exterior? Someone who wasn’t perhaps as cruel as he came off to be? He ponders these paradoxes in his mind as he wanders his home and is lost in these thoughts when he comes across a stranger. The unknown stallion smells of Pangea, of Aela’s old homeland, and it brings him into focus as his red gaze narrows with interest and a sudden surge of jealous protectiveness. For his scent is vaguely familiar, one he had caught off Aela’s skin when she had finally returned home for good. “What do you want outsider?” His expression is unreadable except for the sneer he throws out for good measure at Skandar, waiting for the answer that he had just demanded.
The autumn chill is turning into something more frigid and he can sense the coming of snow in the air. The wildflowers have slowly started to wilt (stubborn as he is) in the face of Old Man Winter and although the stream still bubbles with life, he expects to find it frosted within the week. For now he stands amongst the remaining blooms, wandering aimlessly amongst his kingdom. For once he is alone by choice.
Aela had returned for good and he can’t help but shake the little “lesson” she had given him and what that might mean come spring. There’s a nagging feeling that he can’t shake but he does his best to ignore the little pull of worry that he might have made a very big mistake. He has no idea how to be a father and the little experience he has had with his own only leaves a sour aftertaste. Surely there was nothing to worry about though. He doesn’t even think of the mare whose name he has forgotten and whatever indiscretions had happened with Revelrie would surely not come to bite him in the ass. It had only been once after all.
It’s easier to forget about all that and chew over the bigger problems he faced. Like how every time he runs into Cheri he still wants to wipe that haughty grin from her mouth, preferably by using his own lips against her. Or how he can’t control this serpent inside him. Or perhaps even more problematic, the way he’s fallen for Aela. He knows that he is just a means to an end, that was how this had started for both of them. She needed his title and protection as much as he needed her power. It was beneficial to both of them, in the beginning.
And now… Now he’s not sure what lays behind her oceanic eyes when she looks at him just as much as he is unsure of what stirs in the cold recesses of his chest when she speaks of the ideas she has for them. Her ruthlessness can leave him breathless at times and he’s never met anyone whose been able to keep up with his sharp quips so well. There’s just one little thing that stands in the way and that is the difference in their ambition. She has mighty plans and he can see the worth in them but he has never been one that hungered for blood (with the exception of whatever the snake inside him feels) or war or meaningless destruction. He was a trickster and a prankster and he liked to see the smile crumble off another’s face with a well placed cutting word. He feels himself growing into his title and he finds that a crown fits him well. It doesn’t feel like a burden at all and he enjoys the pleasures that come with it, enough that maybe he can see that Aela has a point… That he could be more than a Prince.
But he has no desire to see the world burn like she does.
There is nothing that he would change in the golden striped mare. She is who she is and he accepts her for it. But can she accept him for who he truly is beneath his dark exterior? Someone who wasn’t perhaps as cruel as he came off to be? He ponders these paradoxes in his mind as he wanders his home and is lost in these thoughts when he comes across a stranger. The unknown stallion smells of Pangea, of Aela’s old homeland, and it brings him into focus as his red gaze narrows with interest and a sudden surge of jealous protectiveness. For his scent is vaguely familiar, one he had caught off Aela’s skin when she had finally returned home for good. “What do you want outsider?” His expression is unreadable except for the sneer he throws out for good measure at Skandar, waiting for the answer that he had just demanded.
obscene
@Skandar
Here's a rambling starter for you <3
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}