08-12-2019, 07:10 AM
He must have a crick in his neck with the way he’s turning his head this way and that before finally meeting Lepis’ gaze again. Her expression, previously brightened with mild amusement, darkens to neutrality at his sharp response to her greeting. Leave it to Leilan to turn good humor into an insult, the dun mare thinks to herself; she should be long past surprised at this point. His own king had once felt the need to put a muzzle on him, so his abrasive tongue in a foreign land is nothing unexpected.
Well, perhaps unexpected to Lepis, who expects others to make a modicum of effort to improve themselves. She does not blame her children for their childish behavior, and she finds now that if she thinks of Leilan as an overgrown boy whose mother had failed him, he is much easier to tolerate. So she smiles, possessed of far better control than at their last meeting, and the expression on her navy-marked face is softens again. Something between indulgence and pity dances behind her blue-grey eyes as she prepares to reply to Leilan’s refusal to answer why he is wandering about Loess. He might find himself amusing, and Lepis might be prepared to treat him as a wayward child, but that does not mean he is not intruding without proof of permission.
“Not without an invitation,” she begins. Whatever else she’d been about to say trails off at the shadow that passes over them. Lepis’ eyes dart upward to where a familiar shape grows smaller and then lands beside them. Her benevolent smile changes to one that is far happier, and she returns the Dragon King’s greeting with a touch of her muzzle to his jaw. The tenderness of Castile’s gesture is mirrored in her own, though the adoration in her eyes is nothing more than platonic. The dragon is her beloved uncle, had been her father figure when she was a child queen here in Loess.
That they are of a like mind, and that he repeats her question to Leilan brings a sense of satisfaction. The pegasus mare turns back to Leilan for an answer, curious if his tongue might be bridled by the presence of a dragon. Somehow, she finds herself doubting that it will.
@[Castile]
@[Leilan]
Well, perhaps unexpected to Lepis, who expects others to make a modicum of effort to improve themselves. She does not blame her children for their childish behavior, and she finds now that if she thinks of Leilan as an overgrown boy whose mother had failed him, he is much easier to tolerate. So she smiles, possessed of far better control than at their last meeting, and the expression on her navy-marked face is softens again. Something between indulgence and pity dances behind her blue-grey eyes as she prepares to reply to Leilan’s refusal to answer why he is wandering about Loess. He might find himself amusing, and Lepis might be prepared to treat him as a wayward child, but that does not mean he is not intruding without proof of permission.
“Not without an invitation,” she begins. Whatever else she’d been about to say trails off at the shadow that passes over them. Lepis’ eyes dart upward to where a familiar shape grows smaller and then lands beside them. Her benevolent smile changes to one that is far happier, and she returns the Dragon King’s greeting with a touch of her muzzle to his jaw. The tenderness of Castile’s gesture is mirrored in her own, though the adoration in her eyes is nothing more than platonic. The dragon is her beloved uncle, had been her father figure when she was a child queen here in Loess.
That they are of a like mind, and that he repeats her question to Leilan brings a sense of satisfaction. The pegasus mare turns back to Leilan for an answer, curious if his tongue might be bridled by the presence of a dragon. Somehow, she finds herself doubting that it will.
@[Castile]
@[Leilan]
