04-12-2018, 05:06 PM
we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
A warm smile flutters onto the navy of his mouth as he finishes playing with her mane, pressing the hum of his chuckle into the soft auburn of her neck. He relaxes beside Wound - there is no frivolities or saving face. He simply could be himself - the same man she met many moons ago when he was just a simple stallion, not the King of Tephra and her volcano. She has watched him grown and she has grown with him, the thought causing his cerulean gaze to fall admirably into hers, remembering the once cautious and nervous woman that had merely been a stranger on the shadowed shores. She has come into her own, blossoming beneath the heat and smoke of Tephra’s country, a peacekeeper and one of his dearest companions. An idea distracts him for a moment, but Wound’s steady voice (unwavering and ever present) bring his attention back to the present. He bobs his head slightly, affirming and listening tentatively. “That is good to hear,” he replies with a thoughtful rise of his brows, wondering if it is perhaps past due time for him to visit Solace once again. It had been far too long since he went to Hyaline when business was not at the forefront. He is also surprised to hear that Svedka had been in Hyaline still, for Warrick had been sure that his son would have moved on. The thought made him feel relief - Solace would watch out for the wild spirit that is her brother.
Warrick smiles again, adding: “I’m sure Svedka and Wishbone got along rather well.” He laughs then, tossing his head slightly. The two of them - despite merely half-siblings - were obviously kin when it came to their personalities. It’s funny to think; did that part of them come from Warrick? The conversation lingers on politics for a moment still as Wound presses him on who would be leaving to Nerine. With a knowing look he finds her eyes, brows rising curiously. “I would need a volunteer. The moment I ask, we both know who will offer herself up first.” He is smiling, but there is a glimmer of sadness in his blue gaze. She is growing - over a year old, now - and though he knows Wishbone would soon make her depart from Tephra just like his other children had, he still hasn’t found himself ready. “Should we just go ahead and let her go?”
“Wound,” he says softly, slowly, as a certain seriousness suddenly comes about him. “I need to ask something of you.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly to meet her eyes. “Will you continue all you are doing - bettering Tephra, bettering our people, loving our home - as my Head of Peace?”
Warrick
@[wound]
NEVER apologize for Wound words!
<3