v r e i s
jealousy, turning saints into the sea
swimming through sick lullabies, chocking on your alibis
but it's just the price i pay, destiny is calling me
open up my eager eyes, 'cause i'm mr. brightside
The man moved smoothly through the festival, hooves pressing into the ground with each powerful step as he stood tall, but his expression largely masked by the leather guard over his face. His antlers gleamed, sharpened to points as a man of battle; as useful as the weapon at his side. His ears twitch, catching sounds, children laughing, such youth and innocence . . . and peace. He's momentarily jealous. When was the last time the people of his home realm able to just exist like this. To laugh, and feel comfortable in celebration. To not be afraid to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing - and be branded a magic user. Always on guard. Always watching . . . waiting for a traitor to cast them out.
It tears at his heart, the part that needs to return, to defend, to take the king from his thrown and see a new royal step up, do right by the people. But there's a part that doesn't want to return. To not feel the stress of that power. That fears he'll be pushed into the thrown instead. More weight, more power, more expectation. How long until he crumbles, he folds, he becomes what he doesn't want to be? How can he be sure he isn't that already. Corrupted, a monster waiting to pounce. He had seen the twins disappear, and instead of letting them go he had followed them -
But they were his, his doves, his soldiers, it was only to be expected he would follow, would search for them, bring them back as was their duty, their obligation . . . He HAD to follow them. Because THEY ABANDONED HIM. And their cause, and everything they were trying to do right. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to ponder on the righteousness of his cause, willingly hiding himself away from the truths he refused to accept about his own state of being.
Instead he painted on a smirk, so subtle, so soft it caught a few eyes already. Corded locks, twisted tight and piled behind his gleaming horns, pelt rippling with heath and shine, as he moves smoothly through the area. His ears flick forward, his gaze pausing briefly on the oddly hued mare who seemed to smile with out emotion. Curiosity ripples through him, and he approaches with out hesitation, as if it was his right to go wherever he sought, "It's been some time since I've seen such a void smile. What troubles you, miss; that even your smile could make the sky cry for you?" He asked before bowing his head, his muzzle twisting into a smile with ease, effortless, falling into the mold of the knight that fit so well still, that still defined who he was at the core, "My name is Vreis, miss. Perhaps I could keep you company for a bit . . . if nothing else, help encourage you to find your smile. I imagine it would be prettier than any spring day."
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Jane
Notes: Still figuring out much of his personality :D
