08-12-2019, 08:14 PM
Lepis watches the exchange between the two stallions, her blue-grey eyes darting from one face to the other. She is not certain when the two might have last met, but it is more than obvious that they are well-acquainted. The men in her life all seem to know Leilan, though Lepis is not entirely sure if this is a blessing or a curse. Regardleess, she takes in their comments on dragon kind, and her continuously neutral expression returns to Leilan as he mentions the lands being on lock-down.
That does get a visibly chilly response – the first one of the conversation – but it is nothing more than a raised brow and a look that is nearly disbelieving. A child, she reminds herself, think of him like a child. Children don’t understand borders, aren’t aware of the fact that it’s been standard protocol for decades that a visitor to a strange land wait on the border to be escorted farther. But Leilan should, she thinks, and wonders if perhaps his ignorance is a ploy of some sort, designed to distract them or draw out information that they might not have otherwise shared.
Castile does not give him anything though, and Lepis leans one shoulder against the fire drake for just a moment. With the contact comes the faintest thread of distrust. Castile had been subjected to the hurricane that had been Lepis as a child and adolescent, and her emotional projection is no secret to the piebald stallion. She expects that he will recognize her projection for what it is – a message - but he might also be unknowingly affected by it. Either outcome is acceptable to the navy haired mare.
“He’s home with our youngest today,” Lepis replies, providing further detail to the question of where her husband is. “But he does still serve as Loess’ Champion, and our southern ties remain strong.” That is more for Castile’s benefit, and she glances up at him with a smile. She might rule a nothern territory, but her heart will always belong here in these yellow hills. It’s what she’d come here for, after all; finding Leilan had been entirely coincidental. Her intent is to ally her redwood land with Loess as tightly as the Pampas and Sylva (may it burn), and she projects trust and belonging as wordless affirmation.
@[Leilan]
@[Castile]
That does get a visibly chilly response – the first one of the conversation – but it is nothing more than a raised brow and a look that is nearly disbelieving. A child, she reminds herself, think of him like a child. Children don’t understand borders, aren’t aware of the fact that it’s been standard protocol for decades that a visitor to a strange land wait on the border to be escorted farther. But Leilan should, she thinks, and wonders if perhaps his ignorance is a ploy of some sort, designed to distract them or draw out information that they might not have otherwise shared.
Castile does not give him anything though, and Lepis leans one shoulder against the fire drake for just a moment. With the contact comes the faintest thread of distrust. Castile had been subjected to the hurricane that had been Lepis as a child and adolescent, and her emotional projection is no secret to the piebald stallion. She expects that he will recognize her projection for what it is – a message - but he might also be unknowingly affected by it. Either outcome is acceptable to the navy haired mare.
“He’s home with our youngest today,” Lepis replies, providing further detail to the question of where her husband is. “But he does still serve as Loess’ Champion, and our southern ties remain strong.” That is more for Castile’s benefit, and she glances up at him with a smile. She might rule a nothern territory, but her heart will always belong here in these yellow hills. It’s what she’d come here for, after all; finding Leilan had been entirely coincidental. Her intent is to ally her redwood land with Loess as tightly as the Pampas and Sylva (may it burn), and she projects trust and belonging as wordless affirmation.
@[Leilan]
@[Castile]
