04-01-2018, 05:57 PM
Merrik has never been accused of being emotionless. Fortunately, his expression of it is most frequent when he is comfortable; he does not rage and roar. Today though, he is relieved to be out of the Taiga and in the presence of a beautiful Queen, even if he has inadvertently invaded her kingdom.
Sabra seems entirely unbothered by the invasion; her invitation to wander freely through the woods is given without a moment's hesitation.
"Beqanna must be in a time of peace, then." Merrik answers, following her gaze as she gestures at the kingdom around them. "If you let just anyone wander into the kingdom, I mean."
When Sabra looks up at the leaves, Merrick watches the opalescent queen. She seems so peace, so unbothered. This was not the attitude about kingdoms that the roan stallion has been taught. Has Beqanna changed so much in their parents' time away? It would seem so. He is pondering this when Sabra looks back at him, and it takes him a moment to shake away the puzzlement and refocus on what she's asking.
The stallion has been absentmindedly staring at her for a moment, and looks back up at the canopy when he finally answers.
"It's just a little trick," He replies. His thundercloud eyes are searching for something, and he falls still as he finds it. A single maple leaf colored by the entire autumn spectrum, palest gold to deepest red and every shade of orange between. It falls toward them, performing wind and gravity defying twirls and spirals, stopping scant inches from the mare's rose-tinted nose.
He leaves it hanging, a feat that requires little concentration, and adds: "I use it mostly for making sure my feathers don't fall out." Merrik shakes his head in demonstration, the colorful accessories in his dark mane remaining firmly in place. The limits of his telekinesis has caused him to hone his accuracy more than brute strength; his miniscule knots don't ever come undone.
Tying knots in hair and floating leaves are not the most impressive skills, of course, and Merrik subconsciously rolls his shoulders, resettling his pied wings. "What about you? Do you, uh, have anything special?"
Sabra seems entirely unbothered by the invasion; her invitation to wander freely through the woods is given without a moment's hesitation.
"Beqanna must be in a time of peace, then." Merrik answers, following her gaze as she gestures at the kingdom around them. "If you let just anyone wander into the kingdom, I mean."
When Sabra looks up at the leaves, Merrick watches the opalescent queen. She seems so peace, so unbothered. This was not the attitude about kingdoms that the roan stallion has been taught. Has Beqanna changed so much in their parents' time away? It would seem so. He is pondering this when Sabra looks back at him, and it takes him a moment to shake away the puzzlement and refocus on what she's asking.
The stallion has been absentmindedly staring at her for a moment, and looks back up at the canopy when he finally answers.
"It's just a little trick," He replies. His thundercloud eyes are searching for something, and he falls still as he finds it. A single maple leaf colored by the entire autumn spectrum, palest gold to deepest red and every shade of orange between. It falls toward them, performing wind and gravity defying twirls and spirals, stopping scant inches from the mare's rose-tinted nose.
He leaves it hanging, a feat that requires little concentration, and adds: "I use it mostly for making sure my feathers don't fall out." Merrik shakes his head in demonstration, the colorful accessories in his dark mane remaining firmly in place. The limits of his telekinesis has caused him to hone his accuracy more than brute strength; his miniscule knots don't ever come undone.
Tying knots in hair and floating leaves are not the most impressive skills, of course, and Merrik subconsciously rolls his shoulders, resettling his pied wings. "What about you? Do you, uh, have anything special?"