keep a little fire burning; solace

[Smoak]

Keep a little fire burning;
however small, however hidden.

Solace's short-lived embarrassment draws that crooked grin back to Smoak's lips. She is a girl again, if only for a second, cheeks hot with excitement in the raging storm and he's the boy that wants to see that fire in her eyes again and again. He's drawn to the new scent of crisp air and wisteria that clings to her and he waits, perhaps, just a beat too long to pull away. Solace's comment turns his mirth to faux skepticism and the bone-armored stallion cocks his champagne head to the side. "I'd like to avoid the 'Why are you touching my sister, Smoak?' conversation a little bit longer, I think," he adds playfully before the painted lady reaches for the plating on his cheek.

With a small shrug, Smoak leans his head forward, forelock falling across a hazel eye, so that Hyaline's new Caretaker can better inspect his ivory armor. "Most of the time, no. But it can make me ache sometimes," the young stallion admits, and then wonders why he did. He never would have admitted to feeling any pain (too proud, this one) even just a year ago, before either of them had ever considered a world outside of Tephra.

"Of course I heard," he chuckles as Solace leans into his nudge, his own gold-flecked eyes shining, "Why else do you think I traveled all the way to Hyaline? For the scenery?" Smoak doesn't her to acknowledge the jest, though, as her pretty face suddenly growing serious and intrigued. The champagne stallion nods his head at her, eyes widening at the sudden realization that she did not yet know of Warrick's coronation.

"Your daddy is the new Overseer of Tephra, Lace," he says, weight shifting back and forth on his lanky limbs in excitement, curious of what her reaction will be.

Smoak

@[Solace]