so you wanna play with magic?
Words come spilling out of the youngling's mouth and it's all Camrynn can do not to laugh. Not at him, but at his youth and his innocence. The world is still his oyster, and everyone is his friend. She has never thought that (well, not the part about friendship, at least – for her, she's never lost the feeling that the world is her oyster because truly, it is.) But in the end she does not laugh, and in fact says nothing, content to watch him with a surprisingly authentic smile.
But she is taking notes. He's one of the most interesting magic-users she's come across because his power seems still very underdeveloped. She feels certain that he has the potential for more, the potential to turn his sparks into thunderstorms and his static fuzz into lightning and thunder. But she's got no interest in making him grow up faster than he likes; she doesn't want to make him learn, she isn't a cruel mistress (in that regard). Perhaps she would be, if she weren't the mare that she is. But she is Camrynn, she doesn't need powerful others to help her kingdom survive against whatever the world can throw at them. Let the boy be a boy; there will be plenty of time for him to grow into a man, cradled safely in the warmth of the (pink) sands where the only loss he will know is how it feels to lose at hide and seek.
Her smile grows wider as she watches him struggling with the stick. Gumby is terribly interested in it, of course, and she doesn't doubt that the determined boy will get the hang of it in time. And he does, his second throw going much better than the first – and it didn't hurt that she'd given it a little bump, of course. Not that the boy would likely ever know.
Her eyes follow the stick (and Gumby) into the distance for a moment before looking back to the boy just as he reaches out to touch her. When the spark arcs between his nose and her shoulder, she does not flinch. In fact, she does not even seem ruffled by static. Instead, the spark dances along her skin like a tiny ball of lighting, a contained little unit, and impossibility of physics (but with her, everything is an impossibility of phsyics). She rolls it from her shoulder to her back like a marble, letting it trace her spine and slide down her haunches, until finally she balances it delicately on the bulb of her hind hoof, her hindleg delicately raised into the air.
And with a quick, smooth movement she kicks her leg out and the ball of electricity goes sailing to land – without a zap – on the tip of Rune's nose.
"You're welcome, Rune." She says with a chuckle in her voice. Her eyes have shifted, a sharp yellow-white that is somehow electric, but she's still smiling and relaxed. Her gaze is on him, and on the little ball of electric. It should make an interesting toy for him, at the very least.
But she is taking notes. He's one of the most interesting magic-users she's come across because his power seems still very underdeveloped. She feels certain that he has the potential for more, the potential to turn his sparks into thunderstorms and his static fuzz into lightning and thunder. But she's got no interest in making him grow up faster than he likes; she doesn't want to make him learn, she isn't a cruel mistress (in that regard). Perhaps she would be, if she weren't the mare that she is. But she is Camrynn, she doesn't need powerful others to help her kingdom survive against whatever the world can throw at them. Let the boy be a boy; there will be plenty of time for him to grow into a man, cradled safely in the warmth of the (pink) sands where the only loss he will know is how it feels to lose at hide and seek.
Her smile grows wider as she watches him struggling with the stick. Gumby is terribly interested in it, of course, and she doesn't doubt that the determined boy will get the hang of it in time. And he does, his second throw going much better than the first – and it didn't hurt that she'd given it a little bump, of course. Not that the boy would likely ever know.
Her eyes follow the stick (and Gumby) into the distance for a moment before looking back to the boy just as he reaches out to touch her. When the spark arcs between his nose and her shoulder, she does not flinch. In fact, she does not even seem ruffled by static. Instead, the spark dances along her skin like a tiny ball of lighting, a contained little unit, and impossibility of physics (but with her, everything is an impossibility of phsyics). She rolls it from her shoulder to her back like a marble, letting it trace her spine and slide down her haunches, until finally she balances it delicately on the bulb of her hind hoof, her hindleg delicately raised into the air.
And with a quick, smooth movement she kicks her leg out and the ball of electricity goes sailing to land – without a zap – on the tip of Rune's nose.
"You're welcome, Rune." She says with a chuckle in her voice. Her eyes have shifted, a sharp yellow-white that is somehow electric, but she's still smiling and relaxed. Her gaze is on him, and on the little ball of electric. It should make an interesting toy for him, at the very least.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery