Fang
Tiana Morgan—a family name. “Oh,” the red stallion gasps when he understands his mistake, realizing now that Tiana is much more than a sphere of shining energy, “I see. A spirit.” He looks at the orb in question with a new appreciation and curiosity, wondering now about her past, and how she ended up here at all. He parts his lips, the questions building and hanging on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out before he stops himself, and instead exhales with a soft grin. There was a time when Fang would have pressed Caelum for more information, when his curiosity knew no boundaries, but he knows better now—he knows how chipping at another’s walls can aggravate old wounds, how the scars bleed when they are not ready to be reopened. Now, he respects her silence, and subdues his questions for another day, perhaps.
It would seem that the blue mare understands all this as well. Fang’s large ears tip forward when he feels her touch upon his shoulder, listening to her words of comfort, his heart warmed by the sincerity in her offer. “Thank you, Caelum, truly. My heart is heavy, as you’ve probably noticed—I’m terrible at hiding it,” he shakes his head at himself, embarrassed by the fragility of his façade. Heaving a large, slow sigh, his fiery eyes rise to meet hers from where they had fallen. “The offer is reciprocated, by the way, should you ever need it. I’m here too, and a good listener, or so I’ve been told,” his grin skews affectionately to the side. Briefly, he reaches to press his muzzle against her shoulder, just as she had to him.
Withdrawing to follow her inside, his gaze softens when he looks to the blossoms at her feet. She insists that he doesn’t need to worry about crushing them, but Fang treads lightly anyway. Sharing his own relationship with plants—the magic he used to have—is bittersweet, but he is eager to hear about Caelum’s history with nature. Unlike her, he has not always appreciated it as he does now; it was Vasanta’s gift that had opened his eyes.
She suggests that he might find his sorcery again, and he nods, quiet at first before he gives a short smile. “Perhaps,” he hesitates, his chest twisting painfully as his heart pines for the Goddess he has lost. Would it be the same, if not given to him from Vasanta? Would he even want it then? “I think…I think I would like that,” the boy decides, hoping that finding his magic again would not be a way of replacing the Spring Goddess, but of keeping Her with him. He would very much like that.
With the pain in his chest quickly dulling to an ache he has become accustomed to, Fang appreciates the blue mare’s animation as their conversation continues. She is lively in her telling of the craftiness of her people, which draws out a good-natured smirk from his stiff lips. “Well! I should count myself lucky, then, that you are the fae I’ve been acquainted with. I’ve only met one fae before, a long time ago, in a world far from this one. She was delightful as well,” he hums pleasantly as he recalls Thumbelina, and their silly games as they hunted for treasured shells along the beach. It was a simpler time then—he can’t help but wonder if he will ever find himself doing something like that now. Something so meaningless but utterly delightful. He would like to think so.
It’s funny how people change, how he has changed. “It’s impossible to not be influenced by those who are dear to us,” he thinks of Bella and Requiem, and beloved friends he has lost, “but I think it’s good to be well-rounded. I will say, regardless of whatever traits you might fear, I’ve enjoyed your company.” He looks up at her from his place among the pillows, smiling through the curls of his forelock before he shakes them to the side.
Taking another long sip of tea and a bite of pastry, Fang can’t help but groan with pleasure. “You have certainly found yourself another regular,” he grins boyishly as he chews, licking his lips once he swallows. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but I prefer the wilds to the city myself, so I’ll likely be out this way anyway. And I doubt there’s any tea and pastries that can compare to yours. Are you sure you haven’t enchanted this?” He teases her with a narrowing of his eyes, taking another sip while eyeing her over the brim of his cup. Setting it aside, he can’t help but break his joke to chuckle deep in his throat.
tag; @Caelum
“…”
It would seem that the blue mare understands all this as well. Fang’s large ears tip forward when he feels her touch upon his shoulder, listening to her words of comfort, his heart warmed by the sincerity in her offer. “Thank you, Caelum, truly. My heart is heavy, as you’ve probably noticed—I’m terrible at hiding it,” he shakes his head at himself, embarrassed by the fragility of his façade. Heaving a large, slow sigh, his fiery eyes rise to meet hers from where they had fallen. “The offer is reciprocated, by the way, should you ever need it. I’m here too, and a good listener, or so I’ve been told,” his grin skews affectionately to the side. Briefly, he reaches to press his muzzle against her shoulder, just as she had to him.
Withdrawing to follow her inside, his gaze softens when he looks to the blossoms at her feet. She insists that he doesn’t need to worry about crushing them, but Fang treads lightly anyway. Sharing his own relationship with plants—the magic he used to have—is bittersweet, but he is eager to hear about Caelum’s history with nature. Unlike her, he has not always appreciated it as he does now; it was Vasanta’s gift that had opened his eyes.
She suggests that he might find his sorcery again, and he nods, quiet at first before he gives a short smile. “Perhaps,” he hesitates, his chest twisting painfully as his heart pines for the Goddess he has lost. Would it be the same, if not given to him from Vasanta? Would he even want it then? “I think…I think I would like that,” the boy decides, hoping that finding his magic again would not be a way of replacing the Spring Goddess, but of keeping Her with him. He would very much like that.
With the pain in his chest quickly dulling to an ache he has become accustomed to, Fang appreciates the blue mare’s animation as their conversation continues. She is lively in her telling of the craftiness of her people, which draws out a good-natured smirk from his stiff lips. “Well! I should count myself lucky, then, that you are the fae I’ve been acquainted with. I’ve only met one fae before, a long time ago, in a world far from this one. She was delightful as well,” he hums pleasantly as he recalls Thumbelina, and their silly games as they hunted for treasured shells along the beach. It was a simpler time then—he can’t help but wonder if he will ever find himself doing something like that now. Something so meaningless but utterly delightful. He would like to think so.
It’s funny how people change, how he has changed. “It’s impossible to not be influenced by those who are dear to us,” he thinks of Bella and Requiem, and beloved friends he has lost, “but I think it’s good to be well-rounded. I will say, regardless of whatever traits you might fear, I’ve enjoyed your company.” He looks up at her from his place among the pillows, smiling through the curls of his forelock before he shakes them to the side.
Taking another long sip of tea and a bite of pastry, Fang can’t help but groan with pleasure. “You have certainly found yourself another regular,” he grins boyishly as he chews, licking his lips once he swallows. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but I prefer the wilds to the city myself, so I’ll likely be out this way anyway. And I doubt there’s any tea and pastries that can compare to yours. Are you sure you haven’t enchanted this?” He teases her with a narrowing of his eyes, taking another sip while eyeing her over the brim of his cup. Setting it aside, he can’t help but break his joke to chuckle deep in his throat.
tag; @Caelum
“…”
Lost boys like me
are free.
are free.
please tag Fang in all replies; magic and force are permitted
