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Thranduil
Whoever had cried out before, in that anger, bitterness, strung together with agony and welded by the heart’s fire- they were gone. When earth eyes of the gold find the only creature present in the pass, he finds no echo of that voice. Curious, he watches. Just as the other freely wanders over the golden coat, he does the same. Buckskin patterned with splattered white guards, hair rough and flying loose, and built, well rather like the gold. Shoulder had an arrogant drop, and that grin…now where had the gold seen that before, oh yes, he was wearing it as well. What he had thought would be easy tumble weed of emotion turned out to be slightly more complicated. And, to his surprise, the gold wasn’t so sad about it. The easy come voice mimics the carefree of his own, and those hairs on the back of his neck bristle up. Well, well, someone who knew how to play. Like a card player given a real challenge the gold deals the deck in a more delighted grin, and stops at the table, pulling up his chair. Maybe he was bluffing? He didn’t know the house rules, nor the reason some of the ash in what he assumed was a long ago tragedy was now feeling hot on his hocks. The gold also had no credit, no information on this creature or much still on the land. So maybe his was bluffing…but a thief’s bluff means nothing when he always packs an ace. Tasseled tail switches from side to side like a cat enjoying a hunt. “True… but fair warning, I’m a lot harder to chase away.” A few cuss words wouldn’t do it. It’d be like throwing a rock in the ocean. He’d just hit you right back when the next storm blew in. Careful earthen eyes spy the lingering looks, and don’t hide their own either. The clock was ticking if the other with turn him in, call out all the words coming from his gilded tongue. Of course the gold would take it in stride, not doubting his body and skills the way he had only moments ago in admitting some training was needed. Oh no, he’d saunter up to the line just as he would if he were a pro….but then, he didn’t want to. How could he want to dump the wit, the cards, the game all of it for a brutish all out slug fest. Not today, let him at least have his fun today. The other player was first to speak. Head peaks back up as if the attention were recaptured, and the gold listens as if a they were but old timers, sitting on a porch, being offered sweet tea. Yes he’d love another glass, thank you kindly. Crowned head turns back at the mention of his entrance, which, even the gold could admit (only to himself) might have been a bit….ambitious. Sight is also caught by his ashen dust covered hinds, no defiantly not again soon. He wasn’t a fool, one hark stays trained on the other, and his body never laxed into an easy. “Tempting.” He says in flippancy before pinning it up with a lower still careless tone as he turned his head back. “And I’m sure you’re good for it.” An acknowledgement, for that much was most certainly clear. “But I do believe I prefer the company up here, and our most entertaining conversation.” Besides, if the gold was getting kicked out of anywhere, he’d be kicking himself out. That is really what it came down to. He didn’t need to be shoved, cut, kicked, or tackled to understand the other would be a solid match for him. Perhaps another day when his blood was hotter, or the buckskin earned it, but not today when he’d seen something so much more interesting. Something he’d not get by knocking the other’s brain’s out. “Or perhaps you can show me a trick.” He wasn’t being very subtle about it, and given the change of voice he’d heard, he wondered if he’d have to slug it out anyway. “Maybe, make something appear? Maybe a watermelon…or oh say…a horse?” The gold grinned as if he was just as innocently as possible posing the question. After all, two new friends and a watermelon, where was the harm in that? “Show me your trick, and I’ll show you mine.” Tricks come in all shapes and sizes, even ones you never knew you had. Then again, even the gold could guess this wouldn’t in his wildest dreams go so smoothly. Who in their right mind would just show him the cards in their hand? Certainly no someone who could yell in wildest bitterness and turn on a dime into a lounging feline. But maybe a willing demonstration wasn’t what he was really after. There might be something, a denial, a flash in the eye, a tensing of the shoulder, (or at worst they’d have it out anyway) something to tell him what he had seen was what he suspected. Magic, a useful magic. When you are of use to him, there was rarely any getting rid of his curiosity, let alone his company. "talk talk talk" OOC;; <3 |
@Acton
