05-26-2017, 03:23 PM
He can feel the familiar perforation of loneliness beginning to wane on him, becoming heavier and heavier with each inhale. With Tang’s departure and teary-eyed send off into the Lake and Ellyse’s vanishing act, Warrick was beginning to let the dark thoughts that once plague his mind find him once again, unable to find the strength to stop them. With no one by his side to cast reassure him that he will not succumb to the doubt that precariously surrounds him, he is not sure if he will be resilient enough to resist. It was so much easier, so much simpler to just accept that there was a sort of blackness in him that will grow until there is nothing left.
The boy is young and lively. He’s teeming with excitement, his body nearly quivering with anticipation. The stallion smiles gently, and though the smile is sincere, it does not quite reach his somber blue eyes. The boy wishes to explore (no doubt, especially with the looming giant of a volcano resting at Warrick’s back). Warrick’s blue-tipped ears prick curiously as he gives him his name and the place he is from. He snorts gently, finding it interesting that yet another from Sylva has found themselves here – it wasn’t too long ago that Karaugh and her brood were visiting the tepid land. He still remembers his interaction with the mystical and aloof mare in the forest, one of his first conversations with another in his return from the mountain, family-less. He closes his eyes, remembering the stormy color of her coat and the bright, sparkling anklets at her feet.
Warrick’s blue eyes reveal themselves as his auburn lids open, Ivar’s eyes are large and hopeful as he stares up at him. Warrick always looks for the best in everyone he comes in contact with and for Ivar it was no different. The bay stallion lowers his head slightly to be at eye level with Ivar. “Lucky for you,” Warrick begins, a smile finding the cobalt blue of his lips, “you’ve found the best travel guide in Tephra.”
He knows exactly where to take the colt. The seaside with its crystal blue waters and the reflection of the volcano in its surface would be the perfect place to show a stranger the beauty of his home. He remembers finding Tang there, and showing her the underground grotto he had found. Perhaps Ivar would like that as well.
With a decisive flick of his tail, Warrick turns on his heel and lopes forward, beginning the trek towards the sea. He hopes that Ivar’s sense of adventure would allow the colt to follow him without hesitation.
The boy is young and lively. He’s teeming with excitement, his body nearly quivering with anticipation. The stallion smiles gently, and though the smile is sincere, it does not quite reach his somber blue eyes. The boy wishes to explore (no doubt, especially with the looming giant of a volcano resting at Warrick’s back). Warrick’s blue-tipped ears prick curiously as he gives him his name and the place he is from. He snorts gently, finding it interesting that yet another from Sylva has found themselves here – it wasn’t too long ago that Karaugh and her brood were visiting the tepid land. He still remembers his interaction with the mystical and aloof mare in the forest, one of his first conversations with another in his return from the mountain, family-less. He closes his eyes, remembering the stormy color of her coat and the bright, sparkling anklets at her feet.
Warrick’s blue eyes reveal themselves as his auburn lids open, Ivar’s eyes are large and hopeful as he stares up at him. Warrick always looks for the best in everyone he comes in contact with and for Ivar it was no different. The bay stallion lowers his head slightly to be at eye level with Ivar. “Lucky for you,” Warrick begins, a smile finding the cobalt blue of his lips, “you’ve found the best travel guide in Tephra.”
He knows exactly where to take the colt. The seaside with its crystal blue waters and the reflection of the volcano in its surface would be the perfect place to show a stranger the beauty of his home. He remembers finding Tang there, and showing her the underground grotto he had found. Perhaps Ivar would like that as well.
With a decisive flick of his tail, Warrick turns on his heel and lopes forward, beginning the trek towards the sea. He hopes that Ivar’s sense of adventure would allow the colt to follow him without hesitation.
like the sun,
swallowed up by the earth
warrick