Quietude
Her ears turn at the sound of Ivar's footsteps dropping softly into the water and the surprise on the splashed mare's face makes her grin, something she hides by turning suddenly to nip at her dark shoulder as though a fly had settled there to feed. When she lifts her gaze again, suitably recomposed, she lets her dark eyes fall on the stallion's fantastic hide. He scolds her softly and Quietude frowns with an audible Hmph! and turns away with all the imperiousness someone her age can muster - which is significantly more than they have any right to. She is too young for his interest and for his wiles and they slip over her, unnoticed.
The sharp-tongued mare's words do not.
"Oh! No, explosions would be so cool!" And although she is clearly shouting this, it, like everything else, seems dull and flat, as though she were shouting through the feathers of her wing, "Can you blow up whatever you want?"
Her dark eyes are bright and eager, curiousity suddenly lighting up the rebellious pout of her face. The adolescent is nearly vibrating out of her skin as she looks to Ivar to see if he is as excited about the prospect of explosions. Doesn't he want to see them too?
"I can make things explode sometimes too! But it's a lot harder than making everything quiet."
And then, because she has still not quite mastered the knack of using her power without moving her self, she extends her wing at it's wrist as if to capture the hushed call of a blackbird singing the outline of its territory in the pond's tall reeds, seeming to make it grow until even from outside the bubble of peace she has created around them there is a gentle booming sound and a small spray of soft wood splinters away from a decades-old rotten log at the water's far edge.
There is a sheen of sweat on her neck and she lifts heavy wings from her sides to let the autumn breeze flow beneath them. Making sound grow that powerful is difficult and she has little practice with it, but she turns back to mare and stallion beaming.
"You're in the Field, it's probably the quietest place in Beqanna so if that's what you like, you got lucky!" She says this ignorant of any place beyond the continent's common lands, "But I can make any place as quiet or noisy as I want so I never care too much about that."
The sharp-tongued mare's words do not.
"Oh! No, explosions would be so cool!" And although she is clearly shouting this, it, like everything else, seems dull and flat, as though she were shouting through the feathers of her wing, "Can you blow up whatever you want?"
Her dark eyes are bright and eager, curiousity suddenly lighting up the rebellious pout of her face. The adolescent is nearly vibrating out of her skin as she looks to Ivar to see if he is as excited about the prospect of explosions. Doesn't he want to see them too?
"I can make things explode sometimes too! But it's a lot harder than making everything quiet."
And then, because she has still not quite mastered the knack of using her power without moving her self, she extends her wing at it's wrist as if to capture the hushed call of a blackbird singing the outline of its territory in the pond's tall reeds, seeming to make it grow until even from outside the bubble of peace she has created around them there is a gentle booming sound and a small spray of soft wood splinters away from a decades-old rotten log at the water's far edge.
There is a sheen of sweat on her neck and she lifts heavy wings from her sides to let the autumn breeze flow beneath them. Making sound grow that powerful is difficult and she has little practice with it, but she turns back to mare and stallion beaming.
"You're in the Field, it's probably the quietest place in Beqanna so if that's what you like, you got lucky!" She says this ignorant of any place beyond the continent's common lands, "But I can make any place as quiet or noisy as I want so I never care too much about that."
drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat
@[Xi] @[Ivar]