"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
I tried to sell my soul last night Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
For a man as old as Ashhal, this entirely re-made Beqanna is still in its infancy. That the stallion before him had seen it as it was cracked and re-shaped would do little to change his opinion on the matter. The rulers he called legend are just as young when the rulers Ashhal had once served had passed from legend to forgotten. Time has a funny way of doing that even to the supposed greatest of them.
The moment the deep growl emanates from the yellow stallion’s throat, Ashhal is alert. The aggression he had only recently banked comes flaring back with a vengeance, black eyes darkening with a dangerous gleam as his wings flare, preparing for whatever the beast hiding behind Ledger’s eyes might throw at him.
Though they are not strikes, the words the shifter throws at him are met with equal ill humor. “My problem,” Ashhal snaps back in a grating tone, “is fuckwads who think they’re so much better they can tell everyone else what to do.”
Ashhal would have been far more disgusted if an apology had been issued in the wake of Ledger’s outburst. In his opinion, it’s pointless to lie about such a thing. Almost as bad as shoving down one’s desire for aggression and blaming it on a thing as much a part of oneself as his hooves or nose. For all his faults (of which he has many), Ashhal had always been honest. Brutally so. But to mask the anger and toxicity of his own soul would be a lie, one he refused to live with. So as far as he was concerned, Ledger could get on board with his boorishness or he could fuck right off.
So he says so.
“Oh, fuck off.” An undoubtedly fantastic response to Ledger’s flat attempt at a joke. “I won’t be a party to this fucking back and forth bullshit of yours. Either say what you mean or you can damned well find another dipshit to annoy.”
Help me out before I drown Save me now before I give up
The flaxen stallion feels confused. Not hurt, not angry. Just bewildered. It’s enough to make the bear take pause (even though it still feels like the best course of action is some throat ripping) and Ledger merely stares at Ashhal a moment with that one good eye. “I don’t think I’m better than you.” His tone rather dumbfounded. He had always been this broken battered thing, this lost soul that had, if anything, regarded himself as important as the dirt beneath their hooves.
There had been one thing that he had spoken true in the fit of madness created by Carnage and Ellyse. That he was Love’s Bitch and at least he could admit it. That’s all he had ever wanted, that unattainable feeling, to be wanted and cherished and to give that back tenfold to someone else. He had only gotten a bare taste of it and after living a very long life where he had always been denied it… How on earth could he ever think himself better then anyone else when he thought so little of himself and had it confirmed on a regular basis?
If he was a little more perceptive (or smarter) he might have realized that maybe Ashhal’s rudeness stemmed from a place similar to his own. Maybe he did know this, deep down, a little tug of knowledge from his psyche.
An exhaustion seems to settle deep into his bones and he sighs softly as Ashhal spits his crudeness. “I said hello to a stranger that was blocking my way and you’ve made it… whatever this is.” He gestures with a toss of his muzzle. He thinks it’s obvious that he has a right to be wary and protective over his home when meeting an unknown so he doesn’t say it aloud. “So if you move I’ll be on my way.”
I tried to sell my soul last night Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
If he were a man given to feelings of guilt, he might have then. But he is not. Or if he is, he never acknowledges it. He has spent so long spitting venom at the hapless passers by who were luckless enough to encounter him that it has become second nature. He has truly become the jaded and bitter old man yelling at the children on his lawn.
He can’t know what his thoughtlessly spoken words had stirred in the other man, but he can see the confusion they bring. Can hear it in the words of denial. Slowly, his wings begin to resettle once more. He’s not entirely sure he believes him, especially not after the way he had reprimanded him for his language, but neither is he willing to push the issue. After all, even if things had gone swimmingly during this chance meeting, Ashhal would have never stopped being the crude thing he is.
It would gall him to know that Ledger might have gained some insight into his behavior though. The things he buried very deep down where they would never see the light of day (except once, when he’d spewed them so vilely into an angel’s ears, but he’d made sure she would never be able to tell a single soul).
So yes, if he could have felt guilt or regret, he might have then. But Ashhal is as ugly a creature on the inside as he proves himself to be on the outside. If there is any regret he feels, it is only that he hadn’t gotten to release some tension in a brawl. “As if you couldn’t have fucking gone around,” he growls, mostly under his breath. But he steps aside, because he has never been one to stand in the way of someone wanting to escape.
Help me out before I drown Save me now before I give up
The scowl doesn’t fade from Ashhal’s expression nor does his glare but the wings along his shoulders resettle and for the moment it seems they’ve come to some sort of reluctant truce. The bear within him is still agitated, still thinks it would be better off leaving the stallion without a tongue from which to spit such cutting words. Unlike the beast, however, Ledger had never been a fighter. Despite the many opportunities that had been presented to him to do just that, he had never willingly entered a fight unless that was his only option. Or his mind was shattered into a million pieces and his madness chose for him.
There is a pause and then the dappled stallion moves aside, grumbling under his breath but just loud enough for him to hear. A flicker of tension spasms along the muscle within his shoulder and he grimaces but does not take the bait. Instead he wraps himself back in the skin of the bear, for once unashamed of the shifter that he was and allowing the beast to take his body as long as it was cordial. In this form at least he felt more confident and perhaps it would make Ashhal think twice when he was passing by if he decided to do something more.. brash.
The bear slowly shuffles forward, one beady eye steadily trained on him as he walks by until his blind spot obstructs him and he can no longer see the scowl or the glare. He thinks to pause, to say something to the man, but there’s really nothing left to say. Not in this encounter at least. So he merely gives a gruff nod of his snout and then continues on his way, back to the salt waters to wash the dirty stain of this conversation away.
Ledger
@[Ashhal]
We can end it here if you want but one day he will make him his friend
