06-07-2022, 06:29 AM
His eyes follow the movement of the lava, watching with fascination as the red hot material spirals and swirls and flows ever onward. Rock so hot it had melted, he remembers Wishbone telling him. And more of it now than before, he can tell, which means less of Tephra. Unlike Rhaegal, Malik knows little of the burning of Tephra. Despite being raised by a thing that resembled Gale, the Curse had never told Malik of his father’s first death, and the lava is far more entrancing to the young stallion than it is terrifying.
Truly entrancing, perhaps, for her startles at the sound of the stranger’s voice. Malik’s head turns quickly, eyes widening in surprise. The rest of his body turns to face the approaching horse a moment later, having taken in the other’s polite smile and the way it is not quite warm enough to be called friendly.
Definitely cooler than the lava that now warms the side of his body he’s turned to face the glowing river. Schooling his own face into a smile following his surprise had been quick and effortless. The trick was in shifting his eyes into a happier version of himself, Malik had told Myrna once, or at least imagining he’d done so. Despite its lack of authenticity, Malik is sure it looks real, that it is as genuine as the true brief laugh that follows Rhaegal’s dry observation.
There are few reasons a newcomer might arrive after such a storm, and though Malik had not expected to be pinned so quickly, he does not deceive the stranger beyond the appearance of his false happiness.
“My sister. Sickle. Blue, with stripes like mine.” His stripes are rarely visible, black against his black coat, but much of the sun is behind the clouds and the light from the lava casts so little light that they glow faintly along his sides. (maybe also he turns Sickle colored TBD). “Have you seen her?”
@Rhaegal
Truly entrancing, perhaps, for her startles at the sound of the stranger’s voice. Malik’s head turns quickly, eyes widening in surprise. The rest of his body turns to face the approaching horse a moment later, having taken in the other’s polite smile and the way it is not quite warm enough to be called friendly.
Definitely cooler than the lava that now warms the side of his body he’s turned to face the glowing river. Schooling his own face into a smile following his surprise had been quick and effortless. The trick was in shifting his eyes into a happier version of himself, Malik had told Myrna once, or at least imagining he’d done so. Despite its lack of authenticity, Malik is sure it looks real, that it is as genuine as the true brief laugh that follows Rhaegal’s dry observation.
There are few reasons a newcomer might arrive after such a storm, and though Malik had not expected to be pinned so quickly, he does not deceive the stranger beyond the appearance of his false happiness.
“My sister. Sickle. Blue, with stripes like mine.” His stripes are rarely visible, black against his black coat, but much of the sun is behind the clouds and the light from the lava casts so little light that they glow faintly along his sides. (maybe also he turns Sickle colored TBD). “Have you seen her?”
@Rhaegal