Tiberios
04-19-2021, 01:47 PM
Tiberios had forgotten what it was like, being taken by surprise. It was neither good nor bad, just an instantaneous sort of reaction to the unexpected that had his mood and head lifting in one motion. His eyes widened marginally, framed by the black length of a forelock that hung haphazardly on either side of his mismatched face, and his ears lifted in the same fashion as his mouth. He could hardly explain why, but he laughed once and then exhaled.
“No, I’m good. If you know anything about removing sticks from dark places though...” He humored her with a self-made jab at his initial attitude, realizing (quite suddenly) that he was in the presence of a mare who deserved more respect than he’d been giving. Tib dipped his head. “Apologies.” He expressed wordlessly.
“I haven’t been here in such a long time.” He told the white mare vaguely, tearing his eyes away from her to glance out across the gleaming river. The beauty and brightness of it all seemed so unreal, so much more colorful and alive than he’d remembered from his past life. Even the water itself looked impossibly tantalizing; had water ever been so perfectly blue? “It certainly never sparkled.” He thought. “Everything is so… unreal.” He told her, lost for a moment as the breeze swept down the embankment to tousle his hair and tickle his black hide.
He should’ve been an old stallion by now.
The Gates would’ve been his home and Talulah his resting place. Their children should’ve had a father and their children a grandsire, but instead he hardly looks a year beyond the eight he’d spent alive before being murdered. He is healthy and gleaming, caked to the knees in mud that covers mostly all of his white markings and somewhat obscures the patch under his belly. Everything he knows and everyone he loves is probably gone. His world has disintegrated and disappeared, like grains of sand tossed about in the ocean’s depths.
The pain of it would cripple him if Tiberios were less of a horse, but he and pain are old bedfellows. It’s the only sensation he recognized in this new life, and so he refuses to let it go.
“You wouldn’t mind me cleaning up a bit, would you?” He asked with a halfway smile, turning to look back at the mare. He secretly doubted her capability to understand, but appreciated her presence and how it had lifted him momentarily from a sour mood, so he hoped she'd stay despite his earlier thoughts. “I won’t need help with that either, in case you were wondering.”
@[Beyza]
“No, I’m good. If you know anything about removing sticks from dark places though...” He humored her with a self-made jab at his initial attitude, realizing (quite suddenly) that he was in the presence of a mare who deserved more respect than he’d been giving. Tib dipped his head. “Apologies.” He expressed wordlessly.
“I haven’t been here in such a long time.” He told the white mare vaguely, tearing his eyes away from her to glance out across the gleaming river. The beauty and brightness of it all seemed so unreal, so much more colorful and alive than he’d remembered from his past life. Even the water itself looked impossibly tantalizing; had water ever been so perfectly blue? “It certainly never sparkled.” He thought. “Everything is so… unreal.” He told her, lost for a moment as the breeze swept down the embankment to tousle his hair and tickle his black hide.
He should’ve been an old stallion by now.
The Gates would’ve been his home and Talulah his resting place. Their children should’ve had a father and their children a grandsire, but instead he hardly looks a year beyond the eight he’d spent alive before being murdered. He is healthy and gleaming, caked to the knees in mud that covers mostly all of his white markings and somewhat obscures the patch under his belly. Everything he knows and everyone he loves is probably gone. His world has disintegrated and disappeared, like grains of sand tossed about in the ocean’s depths.
The pain of it would cripple him if Tiberios were less of a horse, but he and pain are old bedfellows. It’s the only sensation he recognized in this new life, and so he refuses to let it go.
“You wouldn’t mind me cleaning up a bit, would you?” He asked with a halfway smile, turning to look back at the mare. He secretly doubted her capability to understand, but appreciated her presence and how it had lifted him momentarily from a sour mood, so he hoped she'd stay despite his earlier thoughts. “I won’t need help with that either, in case you were wondering.”
@[Beyza]