09-09-2019, 10:36 AM
I just want to let you know: my mind refuses to let you go
I want to hypnotize you so you will remember me
I want to hypnotize you so you will remember me
There’s ways to be useful and ways to be not. To Leilan, one does not exclude the other - in trying the one thing, the other one can surface, and vice versa. The only thing the gold-clad roan cares about, is if it brings him any fun.
Satisfaction has long been tossed overboard.
It’s out of sheer boredom that he agreed to make the trip to the Field, then. He has second-guessed yanking the blue girl from her hopeless, wandering mother for the fourth time already when they arrive in the recruitment area, but the part of him that harbours rationalism and emotion is pushed away deep down somewhere. Instead, he just doesn’t bother with his history - he was once going to find his wandering children, but only the youngest truly was easy enough to find, and he’s lost that purpose since.
Now, he scans the Field with a lack of interest for most parts, until his keen eye lands on a pretty mare. He nickers to the girl who, much like him, seems to prefer watching the happenings in the Field from a distance; nods to the woman and then finds an overly keen young stallion has already approached.
The ice-marked horses both make their way over, just in time for the scaled stallion to pick up the remark the colt makes. A snort follows. ”I bet you don’t even know what cold is.” he grins, which seems to emit a very cold breath when he speaks though nothing too icy happens. Yet.
His grin grows a little wider at the sight of the emerald hooves, and he studies the boy’s conformation. Half-Andalusian. Not surprising at all.
From barely a few yards apart, the month-old snow-maned filly watches the new horses’ faces, but says nothing, and keeps her face rather straight.
Satisfaction has long been tossed overboard.
It’s out of sheer boredom that he agreed to make the trip to the Field, then. He has second-guessed yanking the blue girl from her hopeless, wandering mother for the fourth time already when they arrive in the recruitment area, but the part of him that harbours rationalism and emotion is pushed away deep down somewhere. Instead, he just doesn’t bother with his history - he was once going to find his wandering children, but only the youngest truly was easy enough to find, and he’s lost that purpose since.
Now, he scans the Field with a lack of interest for most parts, until his keen eye lands on a pretty mare. He nickers to the girl who, much like him, seems to prefer watching the happenings in the Field from a distance; nods to the woman and then finds an overly keen young stallion has already approached.
The ice-marked horses both make their way over, just in time for the scaled stallion to pick up the remark the colt makes. A snort follows. ”I bet you don’t even know what cold is.” he grins, which seems to emit a very cold breath when he speaks though nothing too icy happens. Yet.
His grin grows a little wider at the sight of the emerald hooves, and he studies the boy’s conformation. Half-Andalusian. Not surprising at all.
From barely a few yards apart, the month-old snow-maned filly watches the new horses’ faces, but says nothing, and keeps her face rather straight.
When your fears are cast aside, will you remember me?
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Demetyr] @[Aries]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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