04-09-2015, 02:35 PM
wolves in our own skin, we're savages.
The voices had been right.
The statue boy seems suspicious, perhaps on-guard, and Dá tilts her head and glances around the Meadow also. What had he been expecting, an entire host of highly-trained kidnappers to jump out from behind the sweet briars? That was awfully arrogant of him. With an amused smile she turns back to him.
He speaks, and oh, isn't he charming? Dá has never lusted over fairytales. She has never found their structured, well-mannered ways to be anything other than boring. There's an entire world out there, outside of the constraints of crown-bound property and royal bloodlines, after all.
"Everyone knows you," she says innocently, although her eyes are dark. "The newest prince." If it sounds like a weak excuse, it's because it is. Dá is far from a practiced deceiver; she favours mischief rather than manipulation, at least for now.
Dear boy, it's not the melting you should be wary of.
"They say you're going to be great," the wild girl says easily, although her hint of a smile betrays a level of playfulness in her words. This the voices had not said, but it doesn't mean it can't be true. Doesn't every boy long to be his father? "Will you?"
What started off as a simple test has changed, now. The voices are a secondary concern (perhaps they had even planned this, but the small dark filly does not have the desire to think about that right now). Erebor has her full attention now. He is so restrained, cast in cold metal, and her fire jumps hungrily in her chest - no, not to melt. To destroy.
"You can call me Dá."
DÁ
The statue boy seems suspicious, perhaps on-guard, and Dá tilts her head and glances around the Meadow also. What had he been expecting, an entire host of highly-trained kidnappers to jump out from behind the sweet briars? That was awfully arrogant of him. With an amused smile she turns back to him.
He speaks, and oh, isn't he charming? Dá has never lusted over fairytales. She has never found their structured, well-mannered ways to be anything other than boring. There's an entire world out there, outside of the constraints of crown-bound property and royal bloodlines, after all.
"Everyone knows you," she says innocently, although her eyes are dark. "The newest prince." If it sounds like a weak excuse, it's because it is. Dá is far from a practiced deceiver; she favours mischief rather than manipulation, at least for now.
Dear boy, it's not the melting you should be wary of.
"They say you're going to be great," the wild girl says easily, although her hint of a smile betrays a level of playfulness in her words. This the voices had not said, but it doesn't mean it can't be true. Doesn't every boy long to be his father? "Will you?"
What started off as a simple test has changed, now. The voices are a secondary concern (perhaps they had even planned this, but the small dark filly does not have the desire to think about that right now). Erebor has her full attention now. He is so restrained, cast in cold metal, and her fire jumps hungrily in her chest - no, not to melt. To destroy.
"You can call me Dá."