Aim, throw your best shot right at me 'Cause pain, I can take it easily Did you really think I'd fall to my knees Just to pray for some sweet simplicity? The delicate fabric of the ribbon ripples in the violent wind that roars down the face of the mountain, yet it resists coming apart beneath the pressure, much to Ulric’s relief. Faster and faster they go, black and gold barreling down the rocky terrain that crumbles and rolls away with their every step. Were it not for Florentine’s constant, merry laughter, the roan would surely not have been able to put their height above the earth behind him and have been frozen in place as he’d been before. But with her, he finds in himself a sort of comfort and confidence that could, quite honestly, be mistaken for pure stupidity on his part. Or maybe, simply put, that’s just what it was – stupidity. So lost in the moment, so distracted by her laughter is he that he doesn’t notice the way she nearly goes tumbling down the several hundred-foot drop beside her. It’s a fear that had been resting in the back of his mind since he began his ascent of the mountain, a near crippling one even, and so the Gods can only guess why he so foolishly has chosen to become brazen now of all times. Abruptly Florentine leaves the ground and ascends with wings outstretched, and immediately the Warden puts on the brakes, leaving two long lines in the snow behind him before coming to a halt. Turning as quickly as he was able without slipping, he cast a narrowed, daring gaze to the golden girl. If he were bitter, he might feel something akin to resentment for her tactic considering he was unable to follow suit. He only accepts her challenge all too eagerly, however, and offers no immediate words as he positions himself. The ribbon would undulate and snap in the current of the wind, mere inches from his face at times, but Florentine would simply jerk it out of reach if he attempted to snatch it within his teeth from where he stood. Instead, he turns so that they face the same way, standing partially beneath her as he raises himself as high as possible on his hind legs, intending to knock her away just enough to secure the ribbon, or at the very least break her concentration long enough. A wild grin slipped across dark lips as he bared his teeth and again, aimed to grab his prize within them – forgetting completely about the drop-off directly behind them. @ |
HISTORY HAS ITS EYES ON YOU
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