09-15-2018, 07:07 AM
Leilan
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside
could have so many ragged holes inside
could have so many ragged holes inside
Comparing ages with Brennen is really not something Leilan would ever try to do. The man’s a father a hundred times over, and probably having great-great-grandkids at this point. Whereas the roan stallion feels like he’s finally breached into adulthood - though the change came not for the most pleasant reasons. Still, the winged bay is a family friend, and perhaps he could take on the role of an uncle, if not a second father. He sure as hell has no one else to try and turn to at this point, and he really needs a mentor these days, because it seems oike he’s only making more of a mess of his life, on his own.
The bay stallion is found with his daughters, though he leaves their side so as not to be overheard. Leilan’s brown ears flick in the direction or their play-sounds, questioning himself again. Chryseis was maybe unintended but why the hell had he chosen to live so far away from her?
Yet, his attention is drawn to the present quickly, at the other’s approach. The silence is comfortable enough for a moment, but he has something to discuss today, so Leilan is glad for the question. He doesn’t yet know how to answer however, and is silent a little longer while he contemplates his answer. ”One thing, and everything. Family.” he shakes his head. It’s not an actual answer and not a question either.
”I did some stupid things to be honest.” Snorts, looks away. ”The kind of things that makes one wonder if I should be calling myself a brother at all. To top it off, I figured it’d be a good idea to challenge the fairies, too.” He’d done anything at the time to get away from feeling anything at all. To make it stop. To distract himself, he’d taken advantage not only of situations but of the mares he met at that time. Girls who’d thought they might heal him. Or who’d simply thought he might be good underneath it all. And perhaps he still was, but he had hidden it away from himself at the time.
He’d killed someone (himself). He’d done things to mares that he wondered if it wasn’t bordering on rape. There was no way he could look at himself now and tell himself and the world that he belonged in Ischia as a brother. As a knight, a fighter-for-good. Yes, he was a fighter rather than trying to keep a straight face and talk about politics. But honestly he could not call himself a brother any more, when all he fought for was himself.
He looked in the direction Brennen had come from, indicating the children he had just left. ”How do you deal with all those children?” The question was one of several he had, and he added another just because he figured the man should know. ”How do you live, knowing you can’t die?” To him, this was even the lighter topic. The big one might be one even Brennen had no real answer for.
The bay stallion is found with his daughters, though he leaves their side so as not to be overheard. Leilan’s brown ears flick in the direction or their play-sounds, questioning himself again. Chryseis was maybe unintended but why the hell had he chosen to live so far away from her?
Yet, his attention is drawn to the present quickly, at the other’s approach. The silence is comfortable enough for a moment, but he has something to discuss today, so Leilan is glad for the question. He doesn’t yet know how to answer however, and is silent a little longer while he contemplates his answer. ”One thing, and everything. Family.” he shakes his head. It’s not an actual answer and not a question either.
”I did some stupid things to be honest.” Snorts, looks away. ”The kind of things that makes one wonder if I should be calling myself a brother at all. To top it off, I figured it’d be a good idea to challenge the fairies, too.” He’d done anything at the time to get away from feeling anything at all. To make it stop. To distract himself, he’d taken advantage not only of situations but of the mares he met at that time. Girls who’d thought they might heal him. Or who’d simply thought he might be good underneath it all. And perhaps he still was, but he had hidden it away from himself at the time.
He’d killed someone (himself). He’d done things to mares that he wondered if it wasn’t bordering on rape. There was no way he could look at himself now and tell himself and the world that he belonged in Ischia as a brother. As a knight, a fighter-for-good. Yes, he was a fighter rather than trying to keep a straight face and talk about politics. But honestly he could not call himself a brother any more, when all he fought for was himself.
He looked in the direction Brennen had come from, indicating the children he had just left. ”How do you deal with all those children?” The question was one of several he had, and he added another just because he figured the man should know. ”How do you live, knowing you can’t die?” To him, this was even the lighter topic. The big one might be one even Brennen had no real answer for.
@[Brennen]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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