Leilan
Your beauty is beyond compare -
oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
oh, if I could hear but one song from you
I shall hail thee Queen of Birds...
The little girl is right, of course; swimming is fun. One of the best things on a hot day like today; and it’s not surprisingg he finds himself in the river today. Literally.
Splashing around however, is something he doesn’t do. Not because he doesn’t like a bit of fun, but because he remembers when he met her, she who placed him on the road to ruin. He doesn’t think she did it on purpose (maybe she did?), but she left him anyway, just when that budding flirtiness and attraction had started to grow into something new, something he hadn’t known before, that had festered inside while he was in Loess for a couple months, rooted itself in place in the debts of his heart like a vine, covering and slowly cracking a rocky wall.
Too late now, it seems. Her appearance in the field had only emphasized his feelings - instead of a vine it was now a poison, and her fleeting movements back and forth made it only worse. Instead of allowing him to push her to the back of his mind, she’d reminded him of her existence and his feelings for her. He wasn’t sure if maybe she’d done it on purpose, to test him. And now here he was, the land in-between their homes, where he usually went to find some peace; or just a lucky distraction.
He meandered in the water, near the opposite bank. Moving slowly, seeking out good patches of grass every now and then, or stopping for a drink. It was one of those moments that his ears perked at the sound of a young girl’s voice, filled with glee - ah, to be young again and not have troubles - though quickly stilled by a vaguely familiar voice, if stern though. But he’s been with so many women now, he doesn’t think any of it. It’s more interesting to hear the girl complain from their place just beyong the riverbend. Apparently, someone wasn’t allowed to jump into a high-tide spring river. Tssk, how boring mothers could become with their foals.
Perhaps a different sort of distraction today then. He lifts his head and lets his eye wander, but as it is, it appears that the both of them are just around the bend; just behind a bush. Since they are closer to the greenery than he, on the other side of the river, it’s possible for them to partly see him (especially considering his shiny attributes) while he has a hard time spotting them. He muses about this for a moment; then he shrugs, and enters the deeper part of the water to swim across. His strong legs are used to the tide of the sea surrounding Ischia; he’s swam the canal often enough and also once across the main island as his test to join the warrior caste. If he wasn’t swimming, he’d snort at his own thought - he’s not much of a guard these days, but then, he doesn’t think he wants responsibilities like that either, so he’s glad he hasn’t been given some. Brennen was a good king, for him, knowing who desired more and who did not.
His splashes were soft enough to be overruled by the sound of the river itself, even when he reaches the other side and stood there dripping, then shook out his roan fur. Tail still dripping, he looked back in the direction of the sounds. They’d have heard or seen him now if they paid any attention, so if the mother did not want him to approach she could have run by now.
He stepped towards the bush leisurely, not wanting to give off a troubled or dark vibe - he really was just curious who the voice belonged to. Close enough now, he sees her head between branches - smells her too. ”Briseis!” he recognizes finally, stepping around the bush near the riverbend to greet her jovially. ”I’d been wondering if you were o-“ His gaze falls upon the filly; a blue roan, she looks like his baby sister, and an unmistakable golden blaze that marks her his, metallic as his own mane and tail. His jaw shuts with a clacking sound where teeth meet. Honestly, he’d thought nothing of her having a foal around, she could have been babysitting, or after their night in early autumn she could have found another, but no. ”Oh.” is the first thing that escapes his troat - a surprised tone, not disappointed or angry, but not the best word. But he doesn’t have an excuse, or anything else to say. His eyes flicker back to the filly, and he realizes he can’t say much in front of her either, so instead he lowers his head just a little to look at her, ears perked forward. ”Hello. I’m... Leilan.” ’Your father’, his mind screams at him, but he swallows the word, not knowing what Briseis wants to have her know at the moment. ”What’s your name, pretty girl?”
To protect the innocence of his own daughter, letting Briseis decide is the least he can do.
Splashing around however, is something he doesn’t do. Not because he doesn’t like a bit of fun, but because he remembers when he met her, she who placed him on the road to ruin. He doesn’t think she did it on purpose (maybe she did?), but she left him anyway, just when that budding flirtiness and attraction had started to grow into something new, something he hadn’t known before, that had festered inside while he was in Loess for a couple months, rooted itself in place in the debts of his heart like a vine, covering and slowly cracking a rocky wall.
Too late now, it seems. Her appearance in the field had only emphasized his feelings - instead of a vine it was now a poison, and her fleeting movements back and forth made it only worse. Instead of allowing him to push her to the back of his mind, she’d reminded him of her existence and his feelings for her. He wasn’t sure if maybe she’d done it on purpose, to test him. And now here he was, the land in-between their homes, where he usually went to find some peace; or just a lucky distraction.
He meandered in the water, near the opposite bank. Moving slowly, seeking out good patches of grass every now and then, or stopping for a drink. It was one of those moments that his ears perked at the sound of a young girl’s voice, filled with glee - ah, to be young again and not have troubles - though quickly stilled by a vaguely familiar voice, if stern though. But he’s been with so many women now, he doesn’t think any of it. It’s more interesting to hear the girl complain from their place just beyong the riverbend. Apparently, someone wasn’t allowed to jump into a high-tide spring river. Tssk, how boring mothers could become with their foals.
Perhaps a different sort of distraction today then. He lifts his head and lets his eye wander, but as it is, it appears that the both of them are just around the bend; just behind a bush. Since they are closer to the greenery than he, on the other side of the river, it’s possible for them to partly see him (especially considering his shiny attributes) while he has a hard time spotting them. He muses about this for a moment; then he shrugs, and enters the deeper part of the water to swim across. His strong legs are used to the tide of the sea surrounding Ischia; he’s swam the canal often enough and also once across the main island as his test to join the warrior caste. If he wasn’t swimming, he’d snort at his own thought - he’s not much of a guard these days, but then, he doesn’t think he wants responsibilities like that either, so he’s glad he hasn’t been given some. Brennen was a good king, for him, knowing who desired more and who did not.
His splashes were soft enough to be overruled by the sound of the river itself, even when he reaches the other side and stood there dripping, then shook out his roan fur. Tail still dripping, he looked back in the direction of the sounds. They’d have heard or seen him now if they paid any attention, so if the mother did not want him to approach she could have run by now.
He stepped towards the bush leisurely, not wanting to give off a troubled or dark vibe - he really was just curious who the voice belonged to. Close enough now, he sees her head between branches - smells her too. ”Briseis!” he recognizes finally, stepping around the bush near the riverbend to greet her jovially. ”I’d been wondering if you were o-“ His gaze falls upon the filly; a blue roan, she looks like his baby sister, and an unmistakable golden blaze that marks her his, metallic as his own mane and tail. His jaw shuts with a clacking sound where teeth meet. Honestly, he’d thought nothing of her having a foal around, she could have been babysitting, or after their night in early autumn she could have found another, but no. ”Oh.” is the first thing that escapes his troat - a surprised tone, not disappointed or angry, but not the best word. But he doesn’t have an excuse, or anything else to say. His eyes flicker back to the filly, and he realizes he can’t say much in front of her either, so instead he lowers his head just a little to look at her, ears perked forward. ”Hello. I’m... Leilan.” ’Your father’, his mind screams at him, but he swallows the word, not knowing what Briseis wants to have her know at the moment. ”What’s your name, pretty girl?”
To protect the innocence of his own daughter, letting Briseis decide is the least he can do.
there's something here that doesn't make sense
let's go and poke it with a stick
let's go and poke it with a stick
@[Briseis] sorry it’s a novel (:.
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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