08-06-2019, 10:38 AM
We got older and I should have known
that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
Lazy - that’s what he is these days, or at least, right now. A lazy half-draconic creature, calling himself a horse one day and a dragon the next - either way, he doesn’t seem to fit where he’s at, most of the time, and this leads him to go wandering through the world. Leilan was never made to sit still.
Honestly, this used to be a bother to him, that he didn’t quite find a place to fit in. It drove him to explore most if not all of the known Beqannan world, court every lady in the process of finding one that would stick, one who - for lack of a place that seemed to be one - he could call home.
And he had. He had all of it for some time, long enough at least, to at last feel grounded and secure. But she didn’t really fit in Beqanna, and it now turns out that he does. He can’t say that there is one particular spot in Beqanna that is his true home - but he knows that leaving this magical place for good was never an option. Temporarily - sure. But really - all of Beqanna is his home, and all of Beqanna is his family in one way or another. Thus, he sticks his nose wherever he feels like, even if he doesn’t, to them, belong.
Though, perhaps Loess is an exception to his cheery wandering, what with him having been it’s prisoner for some time. By now though, it seems that most, if not all, his former captors have gone elsewhere - they aren’t around (a conclusion based on scent), yet it’s perhaps the smell of Loess itself that instills somewhat of an adverse reaction in him. Or, the fire-and-ash smell of dragon, causes a more primal territorial irk.
Nevertheless, he feels like poking them; see what they’re made of, who will greet him amicably or who’ll evade or even (verbally) attack him. He likes to think he’s civilized - so do other equines. That doesn’t mean one can’t be provoked, and in a lazy sort of way, that’s what he came for. Stir the pot and see what comes floating.
Speaking of floating, the equine scent that nears him in his travels is airborne, and the shadow that accompanies it a familiar one. He shoots her a grin at her so-called greeting, slowly and deliberately looking from her to Loess, then back - having noticed that she had come from a more northern direction, but using the more ‘subtle’ (he can’t ever be really subtle) way of expressing his surprise. He stops in his tracks to wait for her. “You almost sound jealous, but don’t worry - that island can’t top you when it comes to freezing.” After all, she could freeze anyone’s insides with a glare or a too-sharp comment. He shrugs a little. “It’s only faerie magic that caused this, and I dig it.” he offers, giving her a blue-eyed grin, a cold air stemming from him while he talks, if only to indicate that he’s made of more ice than just what’s on the outside.
Her face seems to shadow, though if it’s his remark or not he can’t quite say - she seems turned inward in that moment. She finishes with the more usual question, but this time he knows she’s not coming out of Loess, and in fact doesn’t smell like it. No, Lepis smells of a more northern region, though it’s neither as salty as Nerine nor as icy as the Isle: leaving it to be Taiga. “I’d ask you the same thing.” he smiles lazily - perhaps her peaceful emotion reflects on him too, but he’s quite at ease where he is. He’s not threatening her negotiations this time, at least. “Can’t a guy just explore a land without having a higher purpose?” Though it occurs to him that Lepis might exactly be the type to have a higher purpose to most of her movements and wanderings, she could have estimated by now that Leilan is less interested in all of that; but perhaps she forgot about that. It’s been a long time, after all. Last time… must have been Ischia?
Honestly, this used to be a bother to him, that he didn’t quite find a place to fit in. It drove him to explore most if not all of the known Beqannan world, court every lady in the process of finding one that would stick, one who - for lack of a place that seemed to be one - he could call home.
And he had. He had all of it for some time, long enough at least, to at last feel grounded and secure. But she didn’t really fit in Beqanna, and it now turns out that he does. He can’t say that there is one particular spot in Beqanna that is his true home - but he knows that leaving this magical place for good was never an option. Temporarily - sure. But really - all of Beqanna is his home, and all of Beqanna is his family in one way or another. Thus, he sticks his nose wherever he feels like, even if he doesn’t, to them, belong.
Though, perhaps Loess is an exception to his cheery wandering, what with him having been it’s prisoner for some time. By now though, it seems that most, if not all, his former captors have gone elsewhere - they aren’t around (a conclusion based on scent), yet it’s perhaps the smell of Loess itself that instills somewhat of an adverse reaction in him. Or, the fire-and-ash smell of dragon, causes a more primal territorial irk.
Nevertheless, he feels like poking them; see what they’re made of, who will greet him amicably or who’ll evade or even (verbally) attack him. He likes to think he’s civilized - so do other equines. That doesn’t mean one can’t be provoked, and in a lazy sort of way, that’s what he came for. Stir the pot and see what comes floating.
Speaking of floating, the equine scent that nears him in his travels is airborne, and the shadow that accompanies it a familiar one. He shoots her a grin at her so-called greeting, slowly and deliberately looking from her to Loess, then back - having noticed that she had come from a more northern direction, but using the more ‘subtle’ (he can’t ever be really subtle) way of expressing his surprise. He stops in his tracks to wait for her. “You almost sound jealous, but don’t worry - that island can’t top you when it comes to freezing.” After all, she could freeze anyone’s insides with a glare or a too-sharp comment. He shrugs a little. “It’s only faerie magic that caused this, and I dig it.” he offers, giving her a blue-eyed grin, a cold air stemming from him while he talks, if only to indicate that he’s made of more ice than just what’s on the outside.
Her face seems to shadow, though if it’s his remark or not he can’t quite say - she seems turned inward in that moment. She finishes with the more usual question, but this time he knows she’s not coming out of Loess, and in fact doesn’t smell like it. No, Lepis smells of a more northern region, though it’s neither as salty as Nerine nor as icy as the Isle: leaving it to be Taiga. “I’d ask you the same thing.” he smiles lazily - perhaps her peaceful emotion reflects on him too, but he’s quite at ease where he is. He’s not threatening her negotiations this time, at least. “Can’t a guy just explore a land without having a higher purpose?” Though it occurs to him that Lepis might exactly be the type to have a higher purpose to most of her movements and wanderings, she could have estimated by now that Leilan is less interested in all of that; but perhaps she forgot about that. It’s been a long time, after all. Last time… must have been Ischia?
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
I wasn’t sure if @[Aeris] wanted to join this thread or not, but figured it wouldn’t be weird if Cas joined in a bit later due to the fact they’re close to/at the border still, so I’ll leave that up to you
@[Lepis]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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