when the past is present

[Rostislav]

Rostislav She's a strange one, this Weir. But... it's an OK kind of strange. She watches me as I speak, eyelids flickering here and there. I notice she seems a little disheveled - her hair tosses about, braids somewhat tugged and shaken loose. It's a good look for her though - just a little more and it might be a morning-after look. What man doesn't like the morning-after look? My heart beats just a little bit harder. She giggles, but it doesn't seem to be at anything I've said. She's just happy. I smile, not even realizing that my face muscles are moving, pleased that the pale striped lady is at ease. Weir asks where Denocte is, telling me she is living in the Terrastella. My smile falters, if only for a moment. Terrastella isn't terribly distant, but it still isn't the same as residing in the same realm. "Denocte is to the east of Terrastella. We are separated by the Terminus Sea, but since we are landbound you'd go through the Bellum Steppe and have to cross through an extension of the Arma Mountains." I don't know how to explain it very well, and I wish there was a better way to show her. I snort and shake my head, frustration at my inability to describe the landscape. My unicorn friend describes her days, her goals. It's so peaceful compared to what I do - fight other horses. Not for any good reason other than to sharpen my battle skills, get experience. Cataloguing plants.. I remember some of that from Helovia, though the details are fuzzy and buried very, very deep in my mind. "You should come to Denocte - you can catalogue plants there, and.. other things...." I don't elaborate, letting her draw her own conclusions - though the way I spoke hinted plenty enough. When she asks about my own finds, I produce the orb - having had it trailing along behind me. It's rather small, about the size of a baseball, and shimmers in the sunlight. The iridescent gold is beautiful, and it reminds me of Midas and all of HIS gold. While I'm producing it, she picks a small flower and weaves it into my ivory and ebony mane. I grunt, not really sure what to think about this new decoration she's given me. So... so strange... Walk. Talk. WC: 385 Tag: @Weir Top Shelf Sexy Badass

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