12-22-2019, 05:40 PM
You’re uncontrollable
and we are unlovable
and we are unlovable
There’s plenty of things he could do with his time, but waiting. Only a few hours of it and already Leilan gets bored. He assesses his surroundings: a relatively open space, but the male had managed to crawl behind some rocks for shelter. But if he were to survive out here, he’d need something more.
And so the draconic stallion sets to work. He’s done it often enough by now to be able to build his ice bricks in the snow - he shapes them roughly with some well-placed kicks and lets snowdrifts and his icy breath freeze them together in the places he needs them fixed. After that, he drags the unconscious (or shall we say hardly alive) stallion away. It’s not the best display to see one horse drag the other by mane and tail, shoving them over ice patches to get him stowed away in the rough shelter, made of ice walls, but hey, he’s not here to make it look pretty, only to make it work. Besides, no-one is watching.
The scaled roan’s ice walls against a rock seem solid enough. Slowly it gets warmer in the otherwise cramped space, and that’s when Leilan decides to go out and roughly ‘seals’ the igloo with a rock. If the man inside wakes up, well, Leilan supposes he can wait for Leilan’s return or break through the snow. His biggest concern is to tell Beryl where he’s been all afternoon, bury the bloody tracks and find the aforementioned girl - or her leftovers. He’s just not an optimistic guy.
The latter proves impossible, and so Leilan sets himself to guard the young man in the shelter. He spends days lingering there, scraping for food when he can, and occasionally breaking into the shelter to see if he’s still alive.
It’s on one of those moments that the younger stallion seems to be awake and roughly speaking. Not a ‘hey’ or a ‘thanks’ but a ‘oh, it’s you’.
A snort follows. ”Sorry, I’m not the pretty girl you were worried about.”
And so the draconic stallion sets to work. He’s done it often enough by now to be able to build his ice bricks in the snow - he shapes them roughly with some well-placed kicks and lets snowdrifts and his icy breath freeze them together in the places he needs them fixed. After that, he drags the unconscious (or shall we say hardly alive) stallion away. It’s not the best display to see one horse drag the other by mane and tail, shoving them over ice patches to get him stowed away in the rough shelter, made of ice walls, but hey, he’s not here to make it look pretty, only to make it work. Besides, no-one is watching.
The scaled roan’s ice walls against a rock seem solid enough. Slowly it gets warmer in the otherwise cramped space, and that’s when Leilan decides to go out and roughly ‘seals’ the igloo with a rock. If the man inside wakes up, well, Leilan supposes he can wait for Leilan’s return or break through the snow. His biggest concern is to tell Beryl where he’s been all afternoon, bury the bloody tracks and find the aforementioned girl - or her leftovers. He’s just not an optimistic guy.
The latter proves impossible, and so Leilan sets himself to guard the young man in the shelter. He spends days lingering there, scraping for food when he can, and occasionally breaking into the shelter to see if he’s still alive.
It’s on one of those moments that the younger stallion seems to be awake and roughly speaking. Not a ‘hey’ or a ‘thanks’ but a ‘oh, it’s you’.
A snort follows. ”Sorry, I’m not the pretty girl you were worried about.”
and I don’t want you to think that I care
I never would, I never could again
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Firen]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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