You’re uncontrollable
and we are unlovable
and we are unlovable
The topic of interrupting or not might stay a point of discussion between the scaled roan and the very brown bay; humming from a distance is something he doesn’t consider interrupting - only the fact that she started talking to Oceane, perhaps. There is, in his eyes, a number of ways in which someone could be overdoing it with the politeness; nevertheless, when the brown mare asks him about his mother teaching him manners, he simply grins at her with suddenly emerald-coloured eyes: “You know, she asked me the same thing once.” Of course, she had been watching her through heat-vision and not recognized him, and he had easily walked back into Nerine as if he owned it - although he had a sort of birthright to live there, perhaps that had not been his smartest move.
Who wants to be smart and polite all the time anyway?
The conversation continues between the two mares, and the gilded-maned stallion’s attention wavers from the pine needles to the tree that seems to catch the brown mare’s attention as well. When Oceane starts introducing them and names him, he gives her a slightly tilted head and moves his tail a bit, ice blue eyes calculating as if he is not sure if she’s trying to insult him or not; then, he turns back to Bean when she speaks, and gives her a nod. “I’m from Icicle Isle, despite what Oceane likes to think.” He smirks a little at the colourful pegasus on the ground, then looks at Bean. “I wander so much, I might as well be from nowhere in particular. I’ve never really found anyone with severe problems with that… unless you count the ones who really don’t understand that I do not tie myself to a place in a political sense.” He sighs a little, thinking of Lepis, of Castile’s unsure looks whenever he passes by. Oh no, what if Leilan knows some weakness of our kingdom - well, he’d call it BS and would happily continue rolling in the mud, for example.
The scaled horse’s vision is above excellent, and he does notice the small change of expression in Oceane. However, he does have a feel for more sensitive information (and though many might claim that’s not the case, there are enough in the world who have seen the softer side to prove it). Shaking his crest to rearrange his mane and provide a small visual (mostly glimmering) distraction, he then looks to Bean. “Would you say you’re looking for a home then, or rather not?” he asks curiously.
Who wants to be smart and polite all the time anyway?
The conversation continues between the two mares, and the gilded-maned stallion’s attention wavers from the pine needles to the tree that seems to catch the brown mare’s attention as well. When Oceane starts introducing them and names him, he gives her a slightly tilted head and moves his tail a bit, ice blue eyes calculating as if he is not sure if she’s trying to insult him or not; then, he turns back to Bean when she speaks, and gives her a nod. “I’m from Icicle Isle, despite what Oceane likes to think.” He smirks a little at the colourful pegasus on the ground, then looks at Bean. “I wander so much, I might as well be from nowhere in particular. I’ve never really found anyone with severe problems with that… unless you count the ones who really don’t understand that I do not tie myself to a place in a political sense.” He sighs a little, thinking of Lepis, of Castile’s unsure looks whenever he passes by. Oh no, what if Leilan knows some weakness of our kingdom - well, he’d call it BS and would happily continue rolling in the mud, for example.
The scaled horse’s vision is above excellent, and he does notice the small change of expression in Oceane. However, he does have a feel for more sensitive information (and though many might claim that’s not the case, there are enough in the world who have seen the softer side to prove it). Shaking his crest to rearrange his mane and provide a small visual (mostly glimmering) distraction, he then looks to Bean. “Would you say you’re looking for a home then, or rather not?” he asks curiously.
and I don’t want you to think that I care
I never would, I never could again
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
| 