I love the way that your heart breaks
with every injustice and deadly fate.
He pays little mind to her words. He has never been big on them (words, that is), though he uses them well enough. Enough, at least, to (usually) be slightly more eloquent that Kult. But only slightly. Her name he has only a passing interest in. He doesn’t usually bother to remember names. Other than his siblings, of course. And Cordis. The thought of her sends a faint shudder rippling across his heavily scarred skin. What he wouldn’t give to find her again, to experience the ecstasy of her touch. There are so very few he truly respects, and she is one of them. She and the dark god, of course. Not their father, the god that his siblings worship, but the other one. The infinite and all powerful one who had marked him, changed him forever. The one whose brand he wears in the very center of his forehead, nearly lost amidst the network scars marking his burned skin.
But that is a thought for another time. For now, it is simply the new mare and his siblings. He would try to remember her name, but there are no guarantees in this.
The talk of breeding piques his interest, bringing the nubs of his ears forward and a causing a slight quirk to his lips. This is a subject in which he holds a fair degree of interest. He has discovered the allure of it, though not necessarily in the way that others might suppose. It is a tool within his arsenal, one he is not shy about using. In truth, he had been rather fruitful for such a young stallion. And though he has little interest in the products of such encounters, he has discovered some amount of satisfaction in providing a new generation of their hallowed blood.
Kersey addresses him directly then, asking him of the newcomer's potential. Dull eyes dutifully surveying the black mare, he rasps simply ”Hmmm. Perhaps.”
Finally, Nicia elects to join their growing group. She is immediately asserting her dominance, telling the darker mare, in no uncertain terms, just where in the pecking order she stands. Everyone has always fallen so easily in line with what the young mare wants that leadership had fallen quite naturally to her. Raelynx is, perhaps, the only one who has never been quite so easy to predict. He has come and gone from the group in a way that none of the others have.
So it comes quite readily to him when he decides to stake his claim upon the mare. Not in word, but in deed. A clear, silent statement that he would do as he chose with her. With a small, almost cruel smile curling across his features, he edges closer to the blood and death scented mare. His bland gray eyes find his sisters as he lifts his fiery chin over the mare’s back (not touching her, not yet, though no doubt the nearness of his fire would be quite uncomfortable if she did not move away). Not quite an outright defiance, but a standing of his ground.
Raelynx
khaos x eyrie
Apparently Raelynx doesn't want to play nice either, haha :|