06-06-2017, 07:14 PM
Warrick has made his decision, to serve the crown and the crown alone. As others gather and make their case for Offspring, the bay stallion feels slightly at ease knowing that his decision would not be made in vain – he would be serving a just ruler with (though he has no problems with this) a swift fist and a mighty arm. He can feel the winds of change as it rustles between the already large forming group, glad to be a part of the forward movement of his home; though he wonders if that is what he is truly feeling as she steps into the crowd, watching him as he finishes his sentence.
He’s sure that everyone can hear the rapid pulse of his heart cracking against his chest, even though he stands the furthest away, still lurking on the outskirts. His head lifts high in curiosity, nostrils fluttering, and he even takes a few brisk steps forward when he sees the pale gold of her body and the brightly preened white feathers at her side. He wants to run to her, to ask her where she’s been and if she’s found what she’s looking for, he wants to know if she’s okay.
He wants to ask if she’s missed him.
A light comes to his eyes that as long since been ignited – a look of courage, of hope. His feelings were soaring around his chest haphazardly, but he welcomes them. He prefers these feelings of confusion and elation than those of the dismal haunts in his cave. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to react to her sudden return, especially when no one else seems to understand how wonderful it was that she had returned to them.
But slowly, perplexedly, the light dims. She turns away from him, speaking only to Offspring, and gradually his eyes turn dim and foggy. His brow furrows and shades the once brilliant blue that was there. He is now glad that he is not truly with the crowd, for maybe no one will see the doubt and uncertainty that so clearly now wavers across his face, the hardened lines creased with shadow. He lowers his head, his navy-tipped ears falling lazily against the black of his mane. His eyes focus on Offspring, focused on his king. He hopes that the black stallion does not see the emptiness that now hovers in Warrick’s glassy gaze, even though the bay continues to listen intently and wholeheartedly. Loyal to his home, he always would be. But he cannot ignore the familiar sting that rummages through his chest, upturning and overthrowing each and every part of him that was joyful and bright until it was shattered into nothing.
He will not seek her out, he decides quickly.
He’s still listening to Offspring and the others, but he refuses to move his gaze from his new king. He does not trust himself, for the second he wavers he knows his eyes will fixate on her – and he did not want to feel the dismissal from her once again. More have come and more have spoken but their words fall flat on his ears. Voices rose and the king silenced them, others came and others went. He barely even notices a light figure that moves near him, unfamiliar in all ways yet for some reason was familiar all the same. He doesn’t even flinch or react as the brush of velvet lips lightly touch the dark of his neck – though somewhere inwardly, he is thankful. The touch soothes him, though he does not know the face in which he finds his gaze searching. He feels like he should know her and is frustrated that he doesn’t. His brow continues to shadow the blue of his eyes, unwavering in his distraught but somehow soothed by the presence this bay mare gave him. It’s almost alarming at how comforted he is by her presence at his side and suddenly he does not feel as small as Ellyse had made him. Before turning to look at Offspring once more, Warrick touches his muzzle to her cheek. Thank you. he doesn’t say.
His name is being said and time is moving on. The sharp bite that had gripped him only moments before still lingers, though the ache does not stay on his voice. “Whatever it is you desire of me,” he states to the king, nodding his head with agreement. “I will do my best to represent this kingdom and ourselves.”
He does not look to see if Ellyse is there. To him, she already may have left the group.
He’s sure that everyone can hear the rapid pulse of his heart cracking against his chest, even though he stands the furthest away, still lurking on the outskirts. His head lifts high in curiosity, nostrils fluttering, and he even takes a few brisk steps forward when he sees the pale gold of her body and the brightly preened white feathers at her side. He wants to run to her, to ask her where she’s been and if she’s found what she’s looking for, he wants to know if she’s okay.
He wants to ask if she’s missed him.
A light comes to his eyes that as long since been ignited – a look of courage, of hope. His feelings were soaring around his chest haphazardly, but he welcomes them. He prefers these feelings of confusion and elation than those of the dismal haunts in his cave. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to react to her sudden return, especially when no one else seems to understand how wonderful it was that she had returned to them.
But slowly, perplexedly, the light dims. She turns away from him, speaking only to Offspring, and gradually his eyes turn dim and foggy. His brow furrows and shades the once brilliant blue that was there. He is now glad that he is not truly with the crowd, for maybe no one will see the doubt and uncertainty that so clearly now wavers across his face, the hardened lines creased with shadow. He lowers his head, his navy-tipped ears falling lazily against the black of his mane. His eyes focus on Offspring, focused on his king. He hopes that the black stallion does not see the emptiness that now hovers in Warrick’s glassy gaze, even though the bay continues to listen intently and wholeheartedly. Loyal to his home, he always would be. But he cannot ignore the familiar sting that rummages through his chest, upturning and overthrowing each and every part of him that was joyful and bright until it was shattered into nothing.
He will not seek her out, he decides quickly.
He’s still listening to Offspring and the others, but he refuses to move his gaze from his new king. He does not trust himself, for the second he wavers he knows his eyes will fixate on her – and he did not want to feel the dismissal from her once again. More have come and more have spoken but their words fall flat on his ears. Voices rose and the king silenced them, others came and others went. He barely even notices a light figure that moves near him, unfamiliar in all ways yet for some reason was familiar all the same. He doesn’t even flinch or react as the brush of velvet lips lightly touch the dark of his neck – though somewhere inwardly, he is thankful. The touch soothes him, though he does not know the face in which he finds his gaze searching. He feels like he should know her and is frustrated that he doesn’t. His brow continues to shadow the blue of his eyes, unwavering in his distraught but somehow soothed by the presence this bay mare gave him. It’s almost alarming at how comforted he is by her presence at his side and suddenly he does not feel as small as Ellyse had made him. Before turning to look at Offspring once more, Warrick touches his muzzle to her cheek. Thank you. he doesn’t say.
His name is being said and time is moving on. The sharp bite that had gripped him only moments before still lingers, though the ache does not stay on his voice. “Whatever it is you desire of me,” he states to the king, nodding his head with agreement. “I will do my best to represent this kingdom and ourselves.”
He does not look to see if Ellyse is there. To him, she already may have left the group.
like the sun,
swallowed up by the earth
warrick
Warrick says yessssss of course cause he loves everyone. And he's gotta prove himself to Ellyse somehow anyway.