Juice
The tri-colored stallion offers a smile that widens as she expresses an affinity for this conversation with him. As a self-proclaimed loner, the bay splash male could care less what others thought of him or, whether or not he is liked. He could just as easily have walked by her. So, what stopped him? What about her convinced him to linger and converse? He could not be sure but, something held him here. Perhaps, some fine threads of Beqanna magic reached him. Magic or, maybe even fate. The bay splash stallion catches the light-hearted question the copper mare asks. Her humor succeeds in making the query seem innocent and curious, without judgement.
He offers a chuckle before he finds his voice to reply. "Not necessarily. I was born under Sylva's flag and, called it home until I realized I preferred to do my own thing. That is not to say that some kingdom out there does not have a place for me but, one has not yet sought me out." He adds a nod as if that alone solidifies his answer. How did you end up in the Forest? is her next query. He thought the Forest was a logical place to reside and, so he said. "I just felt like I belonged." He tunes in as Lilliana attempts to deduce her element. His flesh-toned lips begin to curve into a smirk when his tufted antennae catch the soft crush of twigs beneath hooves. His black pools focus on the dusty black equine that joins them.
Juice notes the bronze tips of his ears and highlights in his mane and tail. The bay splash had not seen bronze markings since he last saw his sister though, all of her tresses are of the golden-copper hue. The black is barely marked with any other color, including white. The white-splashed cocoa stag listens to the black's introduction, his expression aloof until the word Jesper leaves his lips. At first, Juice is not sure he heard correctly. His right lobe flicks toward the copper mare who repeats back the name to make sure she, too, had heard it correctly. Jesper. JESPER. His second thought is an overwhelming pulse of emotions that have been suppressed for years.
RAGE. A burning hatred for the father who deserted his "one-true love", leaving her to be tortured by Sylva and, all while she was carrying his children! A bitter coldness for being abandoned; betrayed by your own flesh and blood, by your own parent. He contemplates shifting into a puddle and just disappearing but, he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.
As the storm swirls within his thinker-box, his external features are unable to hide his feelings. His dark eyes roll up and back. A haze clouds his gaze and, wrinkles form above his nostrils and lips as he pulls his rubbery labrums back. His black-tipped lobes flatten to his poll and, without so much as a second thought, the taller stag lunges to his right. His dad stands a hair shorter than him though, Juice found himself on a slight incline. Hind limbs thrust chassis towards his sire with neck uncoiled to allowed bared teeth to make contact.
His incisors meet their mark on the lowest part of his crest, just ahead of his withers. There, he sinks his flat dentition in and shakes his head, aggressively. When his front hooves slam into the earth, his broad chest rams the black's shoulder and pushes his forehand away. As Juice feels his father's crest slip through his grip, he let's go. However, he does not back off. Tufted lobes stay nestled beneath jet black tresses and, lips remain tightly curled upward. It is now that he speaks his first words to his father though, his tone is a hiss and, he spits as the words slip through his lips. "How dare you."
He offers a chuckle before he finds his voice to reply. "Not necessarily. I was born under Sylva's flag and, called it home until I realized I preferred to do my own thing. That is not to say that some kingdom out there does not have a place for me but, one has not yet sought me out." He adds a nod as if that alone solidifies his answer. How did you end up in the Forest? is her next query. He thought the Forest was a logical place to reside and, so he said. "I just felt like I belonged." He tunes in as Lilliana attempts to deduce her element. His flesh-toned lips begin to curve into a smirk when his tufted antennae catch the soft crush of twigs beneath hooves. His black pools focus on the dusty black equine that joins them.
Juice notes the bronze tips of his ears and highlights in his mane and tail. The bay splash had not seen bronze markings since he last saw his sister though, all of her tresses are of the golden-copper hue. The black is barely marked with any other color, including white. The white-splashed cocoa stag listens to the black's introduction, his expression aloof until the word Jesper leaves his lips. At first, Juice is not sure he heard correctly. His right lobe flicks toward the copper mare who repeats back the name to make sure she, too, had heard it correctly. Jesper. JESPER. His second thought is an overwhelming pulse of emotions that have been suppressed for years.
RAGE. A burning hatred for the father who deserted his "one-true love", leaving her to be tortured by Sylva and, all while she was carrying his children! A bitter coldness for being abandoned; betrayed by your own flesh and blood, by your own parent. He contemplates shifting into a puddle and just disappearing but, he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.
As the storm swirls within his thinker-box, his external features are unable to hide his feelings. His dark eyes roll up and back. A haze clouds his gaze and, wrinkles form above his nostrils and lips as he pulls his rubbery labrums back. His black-tipped lobes flatten to his poll and, without so much as a second thought, the taller stag lunges to his right. His dad stands a hair shorter than him though, Juice found himself on a slight incline. Hind limbs thrust chassis towards his sire with neck uncoiled to allowed bared teeth to make contact.
His incisors meet their mark on the lowest part of his crest, just ahead of his withers. There, he sinks his flat dentition in and shakes his head, aggressively. When his front hooves slam into the earth, his broad chest rams the black's shoulder and pushes his forehand away. As Juice feels his father's crest slip through his grip, he let's go. However, he does not back off. Tufted lobes stay nestled beneath jet black tresses and, lips remain tightly curled upward. It is now that he speaks his first words to his father though, his tone is a hiss and, he spits as the words slip through his lips. "How dare you."