08-26-2016, 12:02 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
A frigid breeze claws their skins, reminding them of the bitter season that is harboring in Beqanna. Tiphon peers up at the gray skies briefly before his molten eyes find the stallion. Occasionally, they flicker to the mare and he wonders how, exactly, she has ended up without ears. He says nothing of this, clutching the silence rather comfortably. There is nothing urgent in the way he stands with a back leg tilted and with his head slightly lowered as his mane whips around his neck wildly. Tiphon’s distaste for winter is masked behind a face of stone. In this long pause, when it seems as though their offers will be disregarded, the stallion diverts them in a direction not often seen among horses new to Beqanna. It sparks Tiphon’s intrigue and his eyes brighten in curiosity, a crooked grin tipping up the corner of his mouth.
”Eskil,” he murmurs in a modulated voice, ”Nice to meet you.” Rarely does he see stallions in the field and so he seizes this opportunity with an iron grip, but he has the humor and light-heartedness to respond to such an unconventional request. A low hum seems to vibrate the air among them as the angel considers it carefully and reflects on the Dale with meticulous scrutiny. He doesn’t ramble or beat around the bush when the ideas do trickle to mind like a choked creek. ”The Dale lacks numbers,” it could also be a strength because it offers indefinite growth and promotion. ”It needs new blood,” because his bloodlines are what firmly grip the lands and has been for decades. They need more faces, more opinions, and more interest. ”And we need outside thinkers,” like you, he doesn’t say, but implies as his eyes flash toward Eskil.
That’s all that comes to mind that would have some weight behind it versus anything so moot as history, future, or landscape. Eskil wanted to be deterred, to be warned about the shortcomings, and so Tiphon delivers with confidence still armoring his voice and his stance. There is no denying his love and loyalty to the kingdom because while those may be the flaws of the Dale they are also the things Tiphon is trying to alleviate and improve.
”Eskil,” he murmurs in a modulated voice, ”Nice to meet you.” Rarely does he see stallions in the field and so he seizes this opportunity with an iron grip, but he has the humor and light-heartedness to respond to such an unconventional request. A low hum seems to vibrate the air among them as the angel considers it carefully and reflects on the Dale with meticulous scrutiny. He doesn’t ramble or beat around the bush when the ideas do trickle to mind like a choked creek. ”The Dale lacks numbers,” it could also be a strength because it offers indefinite growth and promotion. ”It needs new blood,” because his bloodlines are what firmly grip the lands and has been for decades. They need more faces, more opinions, and more interest. ”And we need outside thinkers,” like you, he doesn’t say, but implies as his eyes flash toward Eskil.
That’s all that comes to mind that would have some weight behind it versus anything so moot as history, future, or landscape. Eskil wanted to be deterred, to be warned about the shortcomings, and so Tiphon delivers with confidence still armoring his voice and his stance. There is no denying his love and loyalty to the kingdom because while those may be the flaws of the Dale they are also the things Tiphon is trying to alleviate and improve.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
sorry for the wait, luv!