05-31-2018, 03:14 PM
we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight Warrick’s eyes flash to Longclaw - a trusted confidant and companion, despite the differences between them. The moment Harmonia’s words left her lips and the disease spirals from her daughter’s flesh, the Overseer’s ears fall back into his neck and a sharp snort of apprehension escapes him, taking a few steps back from the dying growth that trembles towards them. Pressing closer to Wound, forcing her to take a step back as well if she had not already done so. The cerulean of his gaze lingers on the dying foliage near them, before flashing upwards at Ajatar then to Harmonia. It is unlike the ability he has come grown familiar with - the one Kolera used to have as a child, and though at first he thought this could be that same power, the welts on Ajatar’s flesh prove him to be incorrect. He is not impressed, and if anything there is disquiet placating the strong angles of his face, a thin line forming on the cobalt of his lips. Harmonia is vague in her request, which sets the osprey-King on edge immediately. Longclaw’s reaction only furthers this caution, and though the Warrick always had a steadier hand when it came to emotions, he knew well that the bright blue stallion’s reactions were never overdramatic. A single ear tips towards Longclaw, surprised at his outburst but not allowing his gaze to fall from Harmonia’s for an instant. Something stirs in his gut as the tension becomes palpable, thick and swathing him in a cold sense of foreboding. He trusts Longclaw, and though he hopes that Ajatar will not call the stallion’s bluff (if it is one), he does not know the power that is truly wielded before him and he will not allow Longclaw to wither into nothingness before him just to prove a point. “Longclaw,” Warrick directs his voice towards him, noticing the wildness that courses through his friend’s body, hoping that his agreement with him will be enough to settle the blue stallion. His gaze remains ever focused on the strangers before him. “What is your goal here, Harmonia?” Warrick asks tersely, his muscles growing taut beneath the thick skin of his auburn coat. “So far I see no proposition; only a display of power that is unclear, which I cannot help but perceive as an idle threat.” Perhaps not so idle, as he glances down at the disease that ravages before them. warrick |
credit to vel of adoxography.
@[Harmonia]