i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
Reave is many things, but a fortune teller is not one of them. It is true he can see snippets of the future as they snake forward on the many currents of choice and chance, but it is a tricky, slippery beast. He would never destroy his own credibility by trying to tell others of guessed futures as though they are truths already passed.
Had Obscene asked, the bone-clad stallion would have readily told him it was not his ability to see the future that had brought him Nerine (no, that had all been his own ambition - the raging need for more that seems to boil so closely beneath his skin). Instead the other stallion had focused on his admission. It would be amusing if Reave hadn’t known he would before it even left his lips. It is perhaps the least useful tool at his disposal, yet it is the one others always seem to find the most glamorous. As though his only skill lay in the pittance of possibilities he has access to.
But that skill would be nothing without the others he has honed since birth.
As he watches the other stallion, the gleam of dark pleasure in Obscene’s eye, Reave’s lips lift in a dangerous smile.The glittering fae’s response is simple and pointed, though he reveals far more in that single word than he might have wished.
Tilting his head curiously, Reave eyes the other stallion with open amusement. It’s tempting to ask him if he truly wishes to know, but telling dubious futures to Aela is one thing. Spilling them to a virtual stranger is another thing entirely. While he is confident he could make well-educated guesses, it is not something he wants to make a habit of sharing. “And I have gotten what I wished,” he replies, his tone almost flippant through the impish grin teasing the edges of his lips. “So I suppose that concludes our business.” He pauses then, vibrant blue gaze going curiously flat. “Except perhaps one piece of advice.” Another pause. “You have not treated Cheri nearly as well as you should. I care for her a great deal,” abruptly, he laughs, amused by something that Obscene would undoubtedly find strange, “but it isn’t me you should worry about if you don’t.”
reave
@Obscene