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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    i'm not just some boy you can sway | diplomats/any, wichita
    #10

    HOCKETY, POCKETY, WOCKETY, WACK


    It seems he has overstepped some line, his harsh questions met with equal responses. For the most part. Ramiel is quick to give him a firm slap on the wrist, he hadn’t ever expected such a pointed stare from his King. Maybe that was because he still thought of him as a boy, and boy he was not. His King was a man now, had been a man for some time. Had he failed to see it? Lately he had been so caught up with his own life, his own trials, how much change had occurred in his daze? The stallions ears fall as he takes a step back, he had approached rather intrusive to the whole thing. “Of course,” he nods, and graciously takes his chastisement, “I forget myself.” This is what he says, but he thinks that the situation was still horribly rude. Maybe she could take care of herself, maybe she could not, it was simply the principal of the matter. His words offer an acceptable though half-assed apology.

    He is beguiled by Elysteria’s response, he should thank her sometimes, for being so understanding. She sweeps the situation under the rug, placing herself nearer, as if he would further lose his mind. Well, he hadn’t gone off the deep end quite that far, but he appreciated the gesture. He felt a bit embarrassed at talk of birthing, he hadn’t meant to imply the woman didn’t have that aspect under control. Only that labor made for a pickle of a predicament if trouble found you. One could not simply stop the birthing process to flee an attacker, he put it behind him though, it was not a conversation he would win. Besides, the buckskin was rather put out, his hackles raising. Sure, Weir could have said it nicer, could have found a more tactful way of broaching the subject, he probably even should have. Strange though, this one, awful temper he reflected.

    What is most concerning is the response from the woman in question. A little thing, barely bigger than a pony, the poor dear. She was all too quick to apologize, as if the whole thing had been her fault. She had a rather defeated disposition, quick to submit, eager for it even. She even foul mouthed herself, not daring to bring her eyes up from the ground. Now he felt truly rotten, doing his best to give her a hopeful answer. “Why, yes that seems a good sign to me. Most fortunate, very lucky.” He did his best to smile, to make it sincere

    WEIR
    The Dale's Eccentric Magic Manipulator
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    Messages In This Thread
    love is a temporary madness... - by Elysteria - 09-21-2015, 01:27 PM
    RE: i'm not just some boy you can sway | diplomats/any, wichita - by Weir - 09-26-2015, 10:12 AM



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