02-26-2019, 06:49 PM
Thoughts of revenge send subtle shivers down his spine, settling in the base of his tail in the form of vibrating shakes. He considers Castile with a topaz gaze that is the same cool it has been his entire stay in Loess.
The leader’s remarks roll smoothly off the lion’s back: the once Primarch agrees that the Cove’s actions have not been particularly wise as of late, though he does not think it is because the region is lead by women. The cremello was raised by a man with no hold on his emotions - impulsivity and foolishness are universal. If he could cock a brow, he would; instead, he settles for an intrigued tilt of his head. He does not quite find a need to rebuke Castile’s observations - thinking it may not be in his best interest, and perhaps the two can strike up a more . . . loyal relationship.
Ideas from minutes before the dragon’s arrival permeate the forefront of Lie’s mind once again. Starsin’s twinkling gaze flashes behind his eyes, reminding him of the opportunities she suggested with such a slick tongue. A little grin comes and goes in the blink of an eye: does powerful potential boil just beneath the surface of their attempts to outwit each other? The cremello thinks he is willing to look past what differences his capture may have created - thinks they may have the same goals in mind if Castile is even mildly similar to Vulgaris.
A few seconds of silence spread between the stallions as the lion mulls over his response. He knows exactly what he wants to suggest, but takes his time piecing together the precise words.
“I do not plan to be under anyone’s thumb again, though,” here he pauses, closing his eyes to slits and locking gazes with Castile. “I think the best way to make them regret their decision is to align myself with Loess. I may be wrong but - you have an inclination to stir up Beqanna, yes?” The answer lies within the chaos that vibrates beneath the king’s skin. The lion can never be sure of the other’s emotions until they are spoken, but he can sense an unbridledness that he possesses himself. A kindredness, if you will.
“Free me from my sentence and I will pledge my allegiance to Loess. Perhaps together we may accomplish each other’s goals more . . . efficiently.” He does not offer what he is really thinking: goals that can be accomplished more powerfully, perhaps violently, angrily - does not reveal those emotions just yet. “You don’t have to trust me yet, though your cunning advisor has already read my mind in her own quest for the truth.”
@[Castile]
The leader’s remarks roll smoothly off the lion’s back: the once Primarch agrees that the Cove’s actions have not been particularly wise as of late, though he does not think it is because the region is lead by women. The cremello was raised by a man with no hold on his emotions - impulsivity and foolishness are universal. If he could cock a brow, he would; instead, he settles for an intrigued tilt of his head. He does not quite find a need to rebuke Castile’s observations - thinking it may not be in his best interest, and perhaps the two can strike up a more . . . loyal relationship.
Ideas from minutes before the dragon’s arrival permeate the forefront of Lie’s mind once again. Starsin’s twinkling gaze flashes behind his eyes, reminding him of the opportunities she suggested with such a slick tongue. A little grin comes and goes in the blink of an eye: does powerful potential boil just beneath the surface of their attempts to outwit each other? The cremello thinks he is willing to look past what differences his capture may have created - thinks they may have the same goals in mind if Castile is even mildly similar to Vulgaris.
A few seconds of silence spread between the stallions as the lion mulls over his response. He knows exactly what he wants to suggest, but takes his time piecing together the precise words.
“I do not plan to be under anyone’s thumb again, though,” here he pauses, closing his eyes to slits and locking gazes with Castile. “I think the best way to make them regret their decision is to align myself with Loess. I may be wrong but - you have an inclination to stir up Beqanna, yes?” The answer lies within the chaos that vibrates beneath the king’s skin. The lion can never be sure of the other’s emotions until they are spoken, but he can sense an unbridledness that he possesses himself. A kindredness, if you will.
“Free me from my sentence and I will pledge my allegiance to Loess. Perhaps together we may accomplish each other’s goals more . . . efficiently.” He does not offer what he is really thinking: goals that can be accomplished more powerfully, perhaps violently, angrily - does not reveal those emotions just yet. “You don’t have to trust me yet, though your cunning advisor has already read my mind in her own quest for the truth.”
@[Castile]
