I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
The glitter smeared stallion finds Reave is both infuriating and intriguing, much like his golden striped sister. While he can usually push back his frustration with Aela (or at least keeps it simmering beneath the surface thanks to her manipulation of emotions and a healthy dose of lust and love) there is no such affection here for Reave. While he can still appreciate the others impish tenacity, there is a twinge of irritation and it shows for the briefest moment as his eyes narrow and corner of his lip that twitches downward. It would have smoothed itself away entirely if he hadn’t stayed quiet in the pause of Reave’s “friendly advice”.
The moment Cheri’s name breaks the silence, the dark stallion doesn’t bother to hide his scowl. Cheri meant a great deal to him? A great deal of emotion swirls through the gold and black Fae as it always does when the green and onyx mare is mentioned. Jealousy, resentment, hatred. All easily rise to the surface with the soft clicking of scales over skin as a few pop through fur as that old familiar flame stirs in his chest. There’s something else that lingers beneath the other feelings, some emotion he still can’t put a finger on or understand. As Reave laughs, his expression remains dark as a cold smile slowly finds its way across his mouth. “What does it matter to you when it comes to Cheri?” He finally asks, the tone of his voice coming off as somewhat uncaring despite the rolling storm within him.
He snorts softly, finally coming to a similar place of amusement as he considers Reave’s last words. It takes him a moment to find the right words to say as everything he wishes to speak dies on his tongue, lies unable to be be spoken. “If Cheri finds me so problematic she can tell me herself.” It had never stopped her before, from marching her privileged self right into the Pampas to mock him just as she had provoked him that day by the River when she had slid into the waters next to Djuna. Infuriating and insufferable as always. He doesn’t mention to Reave that he hadn’t seen Cheri in quite some time, that the day he met her in that dark storm he had vowed to make her hate him and had seemingly succeeded tenfold in doing so. It had been for the best, safer this way. Besides, she had her soft-hearted “Prayers” to keep her warm at night, an easy and comfortable choice that seemed to fit her just as he had the sharp edged Aela that seemed to fit him. So why does he feel this ache in the cold confines of where his heart should be when he thinks of her now? When he realizes that he’s starting to forget the way light reflected off her crystals or her annoying laugh or even when she scowled at him with anger?
He hopes Reave will tell her if only it means she might show her face to him again.
The moment Cheri’s name breaks the silence, the dark stallion doesn’t bother to hide his scowl. Cheri meant a great deal to him? A great deal of emotion swirls through the gold and black Fae as it always does when the green and onyx mare is mentioned. Jealousy, resentment, hatred. All easily rise to the surface with the soft clicking of scales over skin as a few pop through fur as that old familiar flame stirs in his chest. There’s something else that lingers beneath the other feelings, some emotion he still can’t put a finger on or understand. As Reave laughs, his expression remains dark as a cold smile slowly finds its way across his mouth. “What does it matter to you when it comes to Cheri?” He finally asks, the tone of his voice coming off as somewhat uncaring despite the rolling storm within him.
He snorts softly, finally coming to a similar place of amusement as he considers Reave’s last words. It takes him a moment to find the right words to say as everything he wishes to speak dies on his tongue, lies unable to be be spoken. “If Cheri finds me so problematic she can tell me herself.” It had never stopped her before, from marching her privileged self right into the Pampas to mock him just as she had provoked him that day by the River when she had slid into the waters next to Djuna. Infuriating and insufferable as always. He doesn’t mention to Reave that he hadn’t seen Cheri in quite some time, that the day he met her in that dark storm he had vowed to make her hate him and had seemingly succeeded tenfold in doing so. It had been for the best, safer this way. Besides, she had her soft-hearted “Prayers” to keep her warm at night, an easy and comfortable choice that seemed to fit her just as he had the sharp edged Aela that seemed to fit him. So why does he feel this ache in the cold confines of where his heart should be when he thinks of her now? When he realizes that he’s starting to forget the way light reflected off her crystals or her annoying laugh or even when she scowled at him with anger?
He hopes Reave will tell her if only it means she might show her face to him again.
obscene
@Reave
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}