12-07-2016, 11:27 AM
He stands like black death in the forest. The only sound that he has heard for the past few hours had been the stead drum of his heart echoing in his ears. Birds and small creatures rustle about but it is all white noise as Lior drinks in the solitude that beckons him, caresses his restless soul with it's sweet song. Lids are half mast and lulled as the great dark male stands as though a pillar of onyx amongst the green of the foliage.
It seems as though hours have passed when he hears the rather disruptive crash of weight drive him from the meditative state. Silver eyes flash open as his brow furrows in response as he quickly finds the source of his distraction. A falling creature of the brightest copper and blue clashes with the scenery loudly as she flits, falls, and soon tangles herself amongst the brambles. Lior observes her struggle for a few moments before he lets out a heavy sigh, his features remaining stoic and flat before he coaxes the feathered limbs to bring him to the thrashing equine.
"Hello." It's all he says before he gets to work.
The stallion does not spend any time passing judgment if the girl is deserving of his help but then again, he doesn't really care to waste time playing judge, jury, and executioner. The stallion eases close to the tangled woman, eyeing her for a moment but when he determines she not looking to take a chunk out of his hide, he makes light work of grabbing the thorns in his mouth to pluck them away. Hooves mash down what he can, the spines digging into the tender flesh of his legs and belly but only small grunts give away his discomfort as blood shines against the dark coat. The matted mane and lowered head catch on the barbs as he grips the briars, (mindful of his tongue!) and tugs then back to try and clear a way for the brassy female.
Lior can taste blood despite his best efforts.
After checking on her, warning of when he was moving the thorns so she may expect a prick here and there, Lior stamps down the green stems with their ugly points. Tender red cuts cover his body from the shoulder down as though he has waded a sea of glass shards, the angry red blood seeping into his skin and dripping down to the thirsty earth. The sting of exposed flesh burns across his brow as sweat tickled to collect in the open gashes of the brambles. He simply grits his jaw with annoyance of the pain. Lior steps back as he finished to give the young woman a path to exit the briar patch, noting that she too could be cut up like he but at least she was free from her thorny prison. "There." His remark is flat as he waits to watch the youth make her exit, making sure she is at least able to tend to her wounds.
It seems as though hours have passed when he hears the rather disruptive crash of weight drive him from the meditative state. Silver eyes flash open as his brow furrows in response as he quickly finds the source of his distraction. A falling creature of the brightest copper and blue clashes with the scenery loudly as she flits, falls, and soon tangles herself amongst the brambles. Lior observes her struggle for a few moments before he lets out a heavy sigh, his features remaining stoic and flat before he coaxes the feathered limbs to bring him to the thrashing equine.
"Hello." It's all he says before he gets to work.
The stallion does not spend any time passing judgment if the girl is deserving of his help but then again, he doesn't really care to waste time playing judge, jury, and executioner. The stallion eases close to the tangled woman, eyeing her for a moment but when he determines she not looking to take a chunk out of his hide, he makes light work of grabbing the thorns in his mouth to pluck them away. Hooves mash down what he can, the spines digging into the tender flesh of his legs and belly but only small grunts give away his discomfort as blood shines against the dark coat. The matted mane and lowered head catch on the barbs as he grips the briars, (mindful of his tongue!) and tugs then back to try and clear a way for the brassy female.
Lior can taste blood despite his best efforts.
After checking on her, warning of when he was moving the thorns so she may expect a prick here and there, Lior stamps down the green stems with their ugly points. Tender red cuts cover his body from the shoulder down as though he has waded a sea of glass shards, the angry red blood seeping into his skin and dripping down to the thirsty earth. The sting of exposed flesh burns across his brow as sweat tickled to collect in the open gashes of the brambles. He simply grits his jaw with annoyance of the pain. Lior steps back as he finished to give the young woman a path to exit the briar patch, noting that she too could be cut up like he but at least she was free from her thorny prison. "There." His remark is flat as he waits to watch the youth make her exit, making sure she is at least able to tend to her wounds.