11-13-2019, 01:28 PM
You’re uncontrollable
and we are unlovable
and we are unlovable
Hmm. Something is strangely familiar about this stallion, and it nags at his mind more often than not. Slightly distracted, he notes that the spotted male doesn’t seem to recognize him either though, and so he’ll keep wondering; he presumes for some time more. A name is neither given nor asked for, and the conversation doesn’t seem to go in that direction either.
For a moment, the roan wonders if it’d be better if he just excused himself and left the place. But then he’d never be able to put things together, and that doesn’t feel quite right either.
A small chuckle follows on the young(er) stallion’s conclusion on the border policy, and for a moment, his eyes seem to be somewhat green before returning to ice blue. ”I’m sure Cas won’t mind, provided I don’t break anything his precious fiery land.” He shakes his neck, golden mane falling on iced scales as he concludes he’ll never truly fit in with the Loessians. Still, Castile is the nearest thing to a friend who knows about the image of a dragon; luckily Leilan often doesn’t get recognized as one - but being recognized as an unfamiliar possible danger might be just as bad, or even worse, and his eye colour changes a moment with the thought to a darker blue, yet not for long. What would be the point?
What brings him to Loess? The scaled roan laughs a little. ”An accident this time, I swear. I was in thought and wandered about... and I suppose the kingdom is just too large to go around.” he concludes. Not when one doesn’t pay attention to where they’re going, anyway. But perhaps the other will get that from the way he talks about wandering.
The painted stallion decides to go on with a different topic; perhaps to avoid the reason of his previous brooding face. So the elder stud plays along - however, the topic of family isn’t his best happy-go-lucky tale. ”You’d be happy knowing where they are and living with them. Seeing your children grow up… I wasn’t always so fortunate.” Heck, usually he wasn’t. In fact he didn’t know where many of them were any more; every now and then he would wonder, but then he thought that it would be best not to interfere with their lives any more. Chryseis had made all his stupid decisions, but wasn’t able to see it, and his pointing it out had only made it worse. Ophie had been a near clone-copy in the beginning as well; he could only hope Jenova was a better mother than he a father. And Thorgal… maybe Roseen had been right, yet still Leilan would fear that the boy would have inherited something of his, that he could not set straight during his growing up. Naia was different thing entirely, too… he’d been truly lucky with Breckin’s children, even if their mom had suddenly bailed on him - no, don’t think about that now.
After that, well - nothing could really thaw him any more. Except Beryl perhaps… perhaps she reminded him of his nearly perfect daughters. Or perhaps she was a chance to start over and do it right, this time.
For a moment, the roan wonders if it’d be better if he just excused himself and left the place. But then he’d never be able to put things together, and that doesn’t feel quite right either.
A small chuckle follows on the young(er) stallion’s conclusion on the border policy, and for a moment, his eyes seem to be somewhat green before returning to ice blue. ”I’m sure Cas won’t mind, provided I don’t break anything his precious fiery land.” He shakes his neck, golden mane falling on iced scales as he concludes he’ll never truly fit in with the Loessians. Still, Castile is the nearest thing to a friend who knows about the image of a dragon; luckily Leilan often doesn’t get recognized as one - but being recognized as an unfamiliar possible danger might be just as bad, or even worse, and his eye colour changes a moment with the thought to a darker blue, yet not for long. What would be the point?
What brings him to Loess? The scaled roan laughs a little. ”An accident this time, I swear. I was in thought and wandered about... and I suppose the kingdom is just too large to go around.” he concludes. Not when one doesn’t pay attention to where they’re going, anyway. But perhaps the other will get that from the way he talks about wandering.
The painted stallion decides to go on with a different topic; perhaps to avoid the reason of his previous brooding face. So the elder stud plays along - however, the topic of family isn’t his best happy-go-lucky tale. ”You’d be happy knowing where they are and living with them. Seeing your children grow up… I wasn’t always so fortunate.” Heck, usually he wasn’t. In fact he didn’t know where many of them were any more; every now and then he would wonder, but then he thought that it would be best not to interfere with their lives any more. Chryseis had made all his stupid decisions, but wasn’t able to see it, and his pointing it out had only made it worse. Ophie had been a near clone-copy in the beginning as well; he could only hope Jenova was a better mother than he a father. And Thorgal… maybe Roseen had been right, yet still Leilan would fear that the boy would have inherited something of his, that he could not set straight during his growing up. Naia was different thing entirely, too… he’d been truly lucky with Breckin’s children, even if their mom had suddenly bailed on him - no, don’t think about that now.
After that, well - nothing could really thaw him any more. Except Beryl perhaps… perhaps she reminded him of his nearly perfect daughters. Or perhaps she was a chance to start over and do it right, this time.
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
@[Ophanim] I wasn’t sure if you wanted to keep them in the dark a bit longer, so here’s this thing without a name introduction
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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