05-06-2016, 01:16 PM
± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
His timing could not be more imperfect, the intent of his visit was swallowed down and instead the issue at hand would take priority. This was no time for the news he had come bearing like a shamed errand boy, thoughts and appearance unsure. Perhaps his faulty confidence was showing because he could not help but notice the way she regarded him like a stranger. Was it so obvious? Was it written all over him, tracing words into the lines that racked his molten body? It was not his own imperfections that chilled his blood though, it was in that unfamiliar regard with which she held him in her eyes. Like he was a rabid dog sent into the hen house.
The ice is fleeting and before he knows it life is spilling to the forest floor, rich and new and distinctly male. Sons, two, he should have known. His own mind had led him to believe that there was one rather large child stirring inside the olive mare’s belly, one that would take after him in size and stature. Instead he is pleased to watch the two healthy looking colts burst forth from their Dam’s womb, greeting the forest with their first breaths of life.
“Good man Arthas,” He taps the brute on the shoulder, a back pat between comrades for a job well done.
Each one is so different, the first is a hardy looking boy, the older and bigger twin by all means. Brown marks his skin, earthy tones to seek favor in his Father’s eyes with a healthy dose of green at the points. Two halves made into one whole, a piece of himself and piece of Dacia. “Hellbane.” She calls him and he whispers the word to himself, wholly pleased that it is something he can actually pronounce. The next phrase is one to surprise him, she was letting him pick a name for the second, the little brother but by no means were either of them truly small.
Never before had he had the opportunity to name a child, Engelsfors had riddled their sons with monikers so terribly complex. Even now he could barely form the sounds together to make a cohesive name but he had stopped saying them long ago, choosing instead to hold them in the depths of his chest rather than utter them and feel the pain once more.
“I can? I can.” A question quickly turns to a certainty, sure he could name one, that wasn’t so hard was it?
The second son is dark, a markless midnight sky with shocks of vivid green at his helm and rear. He rises to his legs quickly, tucking transparent bat wings to his sides as he looks around curiously at them all. With a whicker the boy trembles as he moves forward, inching to his Dam for sustenance and warmth. “Call him…Mortal,” Killdare decides with a nod, brushing a blackened nose to the rump of the first boy in efforts to help him up.
Lastly he reaches to tuck Dacia to his chest, to hold her and praise her for returning his sons to him. “You look so beautiful,” it’s all he can manage to say.
The ice is fleeting and before he knows it life is spilling to the forest floor, rich and new and distinctly male. Sons, two, he should have known. His own mind had led him to believe that there was one rather large child stirring inside the olive mare’s belly, one that would take after him in size and stature. Instead he is pleased to watch the two healthy looking colts burst forth from their Dam’s womb, greeting the forest with their first breaths of life.
“Good man Arthas,” He taps the brute on the shoulder, a back pat between comrades for a job well done.
Each one is so different, the first is a hardy looking boy, the older and bigger twin by all means. Brown marks his skin, earthy tones to seek favor in his Father’s eyes with a healthy dose of green at the points. Two halves made into one whole, a piece of himself and piece of Dacia. “Hellbane.” She calls him and he whispers the word to himself, wholly pleased that it is something he can actually pronounce. The next phrase is one to surprise him, she was letting him pick a name for the second, the little brother but by no means were either of them truly small.
Never before had he had the opportunity to name a child, Engelsfors had riddled their sons with monikers so terribly complex. Even now he could barely form the sounds together to make a cohesive name but he had stopped saying them long ago, choosing instead to hold them in the depths of his chest rather than utter them and feel the pain once more.
“I can? I can.” A question quickly turns to a certainty, sure he could name one, that wasn’t so hard was it?
The second son is dark, a markless midnight sky with shocks of vivid green at his helm and rear. He rises to his legs quickly, tucking transparent bat wings to his sides as he looks around curiously at them all. With a whicker the boy trembles as he moves forward, inching to his Dam for sustenance and warmth. “Call him…Mortal,” Killdare decides with a nod, brushing a blackened nose to the rump of the first boy in efforts to help him up.
Lastly he reaches to tuck Dacia to his chest, to hold her and praise her for returning his sons to him. “You look so beautiful,” it’s all he can manage to say.
KILLDARE
magma King of the Chamber
