Her impassive reaction to his slimy flattery interests him, but his motives shift in the moment he realizes she isn’t the type he will be able to lure off into the shadows with him to have his way with her. How would cold metal feel on his warmblood flesh? Upon closer inspection he realizes she’s solid, not dipped, and he quirks his ear to the side with idle wonderment. Hm. He chews nothing in his mouth, a byproduct of contemplating what sort of equine he might be looking at. She touches her nose to her chest like she’s checking her heartbeat and he speculates whether or not there is even a beating muscle inside her chest. It’s not really that important to him, truthfully, but so far she’s a very curious find even if she isn’t as receptive to his charm as he likes.
“To see a friend,” he chuckles with genuine mirth at the thought of Leilan’s arctic being called ‘nice’. “It’s not that nice, no.” he has no clever jibe for that, really, he doesn’t find it that spectacular of a place. But he does like Leilan and the others, and the dragon King has never refused to let him live there free of obligation to be of use. And that’s always pretty nice – being a freeloader with permission. His teal eyes focus on her golden face and his head tilts slightly to the left, “Have you been here before?” he looks around to the Field’s various happenings, recruiting, claiming, fraternizing in the warm sunlight and then back to her. Does she know what happens here or is she just wandering?
There isn’t much time for the metal mare to answer, because shortly after the stallion inquires something in the air shifts. A smell, foreign and immediately recognizable as not good washes over them. Rumbles happen in the distance, the ground trembling and the echoes of the earth cracking open reverberate across Beqanna. It rattles the senses, taking over smell first, and then a shockwave of ear-piercing screams kill one’s hearing; the blood-curdling screeches of lost souls desperate for help along with demonic voices screaming to escape. The sky turns gray, and then black, and the light is completely gone so quickly that even a casual dumbass like Chemdog is breathing heavy and his heart jumping up into his throat.
“No.” his deep voice is forced out under his breath, it is a thought that came to the surface without his consent. He would never want to sound like he’s scared, but he’s unable to stop it, his primal instincts are screaming from inside him that this is not good. This is actually the worst. The worst is happening. And as if the scenario needed extra prodding to be absolutely horrific – things now start to growl, snap and snarl in the darkness beyond them. Sounds of attacking, murdering, dying screams and gurgles. “Yikes.” he cannot see her, but he talks aloud now, trying to steady his voice. Was she even still there, or did she flee? His senses dulled, but slowly coming back as his body tries to adjust to the sudden darkness and flood of adrenaline.
Where do you run? Probably no where.
Things are not well.
CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall
to the window, to the wall
@[bible] <3
he's a bit of an odd duck haha
i tried my best for the descension of darkness and apocalyptical beginnings!
