Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crown
when the man comes around
Somehow, he had managed to pull the right combination of levers in just the right order to avoid pissing the dark mare off. While he would have been lying to say he was worried about it - with so many horses milling about, one would be hard-pressed to start a brawl even if the drink had a firm hold, and a pretty strong hunch suggested that such shenanigans were beneath this particular horse - he preferred to walk paths that weren't littered with landmines when he had the option.
Thus the relief Raymond felt when Marisol smiled possessed a distinct flavor of triumph, as one might feel upon solving a particularly challenging puzzle. He didn't have to know how rare it was to feel a sense of accomplishment. A blind groundhog could have spotted the tension building in her jaw in the moments prior.
The pegasus continued, flaring her wing enough to display the marks of her station. Among his kind, such symbols were called Laudi; Raymond, being surprisingly old-fashioned even as a young stallion, had never been particularly interested in wearing them himself - but he'd also never been a Commander.
He expressed the appropriate amount of appreciation for what the rank must have meant to denizens of Terrastella and what it obviously meant to the mare in front of him. Pursing his lips, he nodded, "I see. A noble sacrifice indeed, Commander. All the same, I have taken no such oath and wouldn't want such a masterpiece to go to waste."
The red stallion drained the mead, its full-bodied warmth seeping into his bloodstream. Fortunately for him, he had an iron constitution and a jovially shrewd demeanor that seemed to defy - or at least conceal, if one were to be overly critical - inebration.
"The name's Raymond." Grinning, he tipped his blade toward Marisol. "What dangers are there here, that a commander can't even be allowed a night of light-hearted frivolity?"
Thus the relief Raymond felt when Marisol smiled possessed a distinct flavor of triumph, as one might feel upon solving a particularly challenging puzzle. He didn't have to know how rare it was to feel a sense of accomplishment. A blind groundhog could have spotted the tension building in her jaw in the moments prior.
The pegasus continued, flaring her wing enough to display the marks of her station. Among his kind, such symbols were called Laudi; Raymond, being surprisingly old-fashioned even as a young stallion, had never been particularly interested in wearing them himself - but he'd also never been a Commander.
He expressed the appropriate amount of appreciation for what the rank must have meant to denizens of Terrastella and what it obviously meant to the mare in front of him. Pursing his lips, he nodded, "I see. A noble sacrifice indeed, Commander. All the same, I have taken no such oath and wouldn't want such a masterpiece to go to waste."
The red stallion drained the mead, its full-bodied warmth seeping into his bloodstream. Fortunately for him, he had an iron constitution and a jovially shrewd demeanor that seemed to defy - or at least conceal, if one were to be overly critical - inebration.
"The name's Raymond." Grinning, he tipped his blade toward Marisol. "What dangers are there here, that a commander can't even be allowed a night of light-hearted frivolity?"
@
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
