06-07-2020, 04:45 PM
"Because of pain like yours," the stallion replies, and the bitterness in his tone is a fresh wound. There is a violence there he had not expected, and he buckles, eyes falling. He was a beast who bowed before Violence, made weak by her.
"So I have ruined it," Clegane states with a distinct lack of surprise. He doesn't understand how it has happened, but he doesn't doubt the truth of it.
He stands, still and defeated, as the light grows brighter- reaching to expose him. But he has already lost this battle, and he does not turn away this time. His silver eyes watch the place where black blood hits the earth with uncharacteristic intensity, and he lets the other's eyes roam where they please. But this is not enough, and he takes a step back when the next question is hurled at him ruefully.
"I don't know," he almost whimpers. The gruesome face which had been made for him would never allow him to forget his past, or others to know him without knowing of it. It would never let him forget the lost mother he never truly mourned and the terror that had choked him. But this was not all of it - he didn't know how to explain why it was he hid in the Riverlands when his heart longed to explore, or why the sight of a star-gazing stranger made him think it would be nice to no longer be alone. He didn't know what would make him happy, and he certainly didn't know how to fix it. But the ache was there, his nameless companion, and he can only shake his head.
"I don't know what it's called."
@[thorn]
"So I have ruined it," Clegane states with a distinct lack of surprise. He doesn't understand how it has happened, but he doesn't doubt the truth of it.
He stands, still and defeated, as the light grows brighter- reaching to expose him. But he has already lost this battle, and he does not turn away this time. His silver eyes watch the place where black blood hits the earth with uncharacteristic intensity, and he lets the other's eyes roam where they please. But this is not enough, and he takes a step back when the next question is hurled at him ruefully.
"I don't know," he almost whimpers. The gruesome face which had been made for him would never allow him to forget his past, or others to know him without knowing of it. It would never let him forget the lost mother he never truly mourned and the terror that had choked him. But this was not all of it - he didn't know how to explain why it was he hid in the Riverlands when his heart longed to explore, or why the sight of a star-gazing stranger made him think it would be nice to no longer be alone. He didn't know what would make him happy, and he certainly didn't know how to fix it. But the ache was there, his nameless companion, and he can only shake his head.
"I don't know what it's called."
@[thorn]
