03-23-2016, 12:46 AM
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away;
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
The onset of winter was approaching with a force all its own - autumn was fading quickly into faint, gentle flurries of snowflakes that simply could not retain their structure yet, and each day was growing darker and more dimly lit as these thick, rolling clouds rumbled overhead. It gave him a certain peace of mind to lose himself in the sluggish crawl that the haze of afternoon had as it shifted across the vast sky, and it was all too easy to lose himself in his own thoughts as gray faded into white. He shifted - his muscles rippling beneath his marred, dark coat as he adjusted himself. He could feel the familiar ache of cold settling into his bones, though it no longer bothered him as it once did.
Ice was now a part of him - a gift (a dangerous, unpredictable one still) bestowed to him upon receiving the mark of brotherhood. Little had he realized it was a part of his new reign, though he had a deep suspicion that such may be the case. He knew of many men that had entered the very same caves and yet emerged without ice penetrating their bone marrow and organs; he could feel his breath grow colder and his skin grow tight with a lingering frost that lay at the surface of his skin. He had quietly begun to try harnessing this newly discovered trait, but it would take time - and for now, he kept it a silent endeavor, only allowing soft puffs of ice particles (one day, it would be sharp blasts, in which he could blanket any enemy in a sheen of ice) to be emitted as he idly watched the weather shift and mold itself before him.
He ceases his actions at once upon feeling another's eyes on him - pausing to lazily draw his gaze away, his deep crimson eyes boring into that a familiar and most welcome face. He returns the smile, his lips curved at the edges of his mouth as he drops his thick neck in a nod of acknowledgement. He had observed Brynmor over time, and he has grown to like him immensely, in spite of the few words shared. Actions speak louder than words, he surmises as he studies the once-blind stallion before him, studying his dappled figure as he comes to rest before him.
How have you been?, he asks, and he knows the underlying question that hides beneath. They had both shared a scarring, yet enlightening experience that say, in addition to a new marking - which he took a long moment to admire. A deep, rumbling chuckle rises from the depths of his chest as he gives a sharp shake of his head, his tangled, matted tresses tossed around his broad skull.
"Hello, Brynmor - I am as well as I can be," He begins, pausing to contemplate his next words. He sighs softly, peering out onto the flatland dotted with the various figures of another. He cannot conceal the light in his eyes as he settles upon a dappled bronze figure in the distance - his precious Isle - finally speaking again. "all things considered. That cave was an experience unlike any I have had before. There is much changing now, but it is too good to see the kingdom stirring with life again. I hope that you know that I appreciate what you have done thus far, and what I am certain you will soon accomplish."
He allows his words to settle in the air, which shifts as well with an icy breeze that leafs between their bodies. Finally, his eyes meet his again, imploringly.
"And you, my friend? How have you been faring?"
Ice was now a part of him - a gift (a dangerous, unpredictable one still) bestowed to him upon receiving the mark of brotherhood. Little had he realized it was a part of his new reign, though he had a deep suspicion that such may be the case. He knew of many men that had entered the very same caves and yet emerged without ice penetrating their bone marrow and organs; he could feel his breath grow colder and his skin grow tight with a lingering frost that lay at the surface of his skin. He had quietly begun to try harnessing this newly discovered trait, but it would take time - and for now, he kept it a silent endeavor, only allowing soft puffs of ice particles (one day, it would be sharp blasts, in which he could blanket any enemy in a sheen of ice) to be emitted as he idly watched the weather shift and mold itself before him.
He ceases his actions at once upon feeling another's eyes on him - pausing to lazily draw his gaze away, his deep crimson eyes boring into that a familiar and most welcome face. He returns the smile, his lips curved at the edges of his mouth as he drops his thick neck in a nod of acknowledgement. He had observed Brynmor over time, and he has grown to like him immensely, in spite of the few words shared. Actions speak louder than words, he surmises as he studies the once-blind stallion before him, studying his dappled figure as he comes to rest before him.
How have you been?, he asks, and he knows the underlying question that hides beneath. They had both shared a scarring, yet enlightening experience that say, in addition to a new marking - which he took a long moment to admire. A deep, rumbling chuckle rises from the depths of his chest as he gives a sharp shake of his head, his tangled, matted tresses tossed around his broad skull.
"Hello, Brynmor - I am as well as I can be," He begins, pausing to contemplate his next words. He sighs softly, peering out onto the flatland dotted with the various figures of another. He cannot conceal the light in his eyes as he settles upon a dappled bronze figure in the distance - his precious Isle - finally speaking again. "all things considered. That cave was an experience unlike any I have had before. There is much changing now, but it is too good to see the kingdom stirring with life again. I hope that you know that I appreciate what you have done thus far, and what I am certain you will soon accomplish."
He allows his words to settle in the air, which shifts as well with an icy breeze that leafs between their bodies. Finally, his eyes meet his again, imploringly.
"And you, my friend? How have you been faring?"
the ice king of the tundra
OFFSPRING