Oh, she was a doll.
Raglan's grin could only grow at the whiplash of her surprise-turned-irritation and he wondered at what it would take to quell the storm that wore the mare's skin. It was an effort not to preen beneath her razored gaze despite the increasing understanding that the lass would skin him if alive if she could - if anything, it made her even more alluring. Of course Raglan, like most living creatures upon the earth, had been born with an innate sense of self-preservation, and as he gazed into the aquamarine eyes of the golden beauty that stood smirking before him, and the growing surety that she was a lass with both claws and fangs, he decided to ignore that sense. Taking a single step closer to match her retreating one - a small distance, but enough to pop that bubble of personal space she surrounded herself with - the Crow gave a nod and his most rogueish smirk to accompany his reply, "Sweet Solis, indeed, it was mighty sweet of him to give the world someone as dazzling as yourse--" "You're a kid."
He broke off as his laughter, genuine and full of surprise burst from his lips. The facade of seducer fell away as he appraised the mare with eyes unclouded by the haze of adolescence, leaving in its place Raglan Silvertongue, Street Crow and Quickfinger, all Cobble Trash and mischief. "Well, yeah," came his chuckling reply, silvery tail swishing at his hind and opalescent eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth, "A pretty cool one, at that." He would have said more, would have cracked a joke or ten and set about regaling the maiden with stories of his and his King's street adventures (if she would have them, that is) but was robbed the joy of such an encounter by the warm greeting of Reichenbach. Another laugh bubbled up from the bloodied lad's belly as he moved aside to make room for his sovereign, horned head bobbing slightly in a semblance of a bow, a wry flicker still embedded in his every move, "Well, Reich, if I can't, then who can?"
As he backed toward one of the tapestry-decorated walls, the tips of his folded wings brushing against the plush surface of the hanging before his curved horns had a chance to, Raglan watched the girl - Bexley Briar - and his First Crow interact; dropped pretenses of rank or Court, relaxed muscles and comfortable smiles, coy titles and hushed words - the pair knew one another rather well. Interesting, that, thought the Crow, a brow quirking playfully as he took a joking step forward in response to the warning glance that their guest tossed over her shoulder. Raglan ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned his weight to his left, cocking his back right hoof as he settled in to wait out the "secret" words between the pair.
While the lad couldn't hear the mare's words with clarity, he did pick up two sharp "t" sounds and a hissing "f" that preceded the second "t." Along with that, it was hard to mask the humming of syllables echoed along the stone walls - buh..buh.. BUhbuhbuh. After waiting a few moments, his mind aflurry with the bits of information he had been given, along with wondering whether dissecting the secrets of his own sovereign was even allowed, morally speaking, Raglan got the chance to offer a wink to Bexley's fluttering lashes and blow her a kiss.
A huff of laughter was followed by a teasing "Awh, there's my doll," flung in Miss Briar's direction before Raglan shifted his weight to the other side - patience, while necessary in his world, had never been a virtue of the Silvertongue.
Raglan's grin could only grow at the whiplash of her surprise-turned-irritation and he wondered at what it would take to quell the storm that wore the mare's skin. It was an effort not to preen beneath her razored gaze despite the increasing understanding that the lass would skin him if alive if she could - if anything, it made her even more alluring. Of course Raglan, like most living creatures upon the earth, had been born with an innate sense of self-preservation, and as he gazed into the aquamarine eyes of the golden beauty that stood smirking before him, and the growing surety that she was a lass with both claws and fangs, he decided to ignore that sense. Taking a single step closer to match her retreating one - a small distance, but enough to pop that bubble of personal space she surrounded herself with - the Crow gave a nod and his most rogueish smirk to accompany his reply, "Sweet Solis, indeed, it was mighty sweet of him to give the world someone as dazzling as yourse--" "You're a kid."
He broke off as his laughter, genuine and full of surprise burst from his lips. The facade of seducer fell away as he appraised the mare with eyes unclouded by the haze of adolescence, leaving in its place Raglan Silvertongue, Street Crow and Quickfinger, all Cobble Trash and mischief. "Well, yeah," came his chuckling reply, silvery tail swishing at his hind and opalescent eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth, "A pretty cool one, at that." He would have said more, would have cracked a joke or ten and set about regaling the maiden with stories of his and his King's street adventures (if she would have them, that is) but was robbed the joy of such an encounter by the warm greeting of Reichenbach. Another laugh bubbled up from the bloodied lad's belly as he moved aside to make room for his sovereign, horned head bobbing slightly in a semblance of a bow, a wry flicker still embedded in his every move, "Well, Reich, if I can't, then who can?"
As he backed toward one of the tapestry-decorated walls, the tips of his folded wings brushing against the plush surface of the hanging before his curved horns had a chance to, Raglan watched the girl - Bexley Briar - and his First Crow interact; dropped pretenses of rank or Court, relaxed muscles and comfortable smiles, coy titles and hushed words - the pair knew one another rather well. Interesting, that, thought the Crow, a brow quirking playfully as he took a joking step forward in response to the warning glance that their guest tossed over her shoulder. Raglan ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned his weight to his left, cocking his back right hoof as he settled in to wait out the "secret" words between the pair.
While the lad couldn't hear the mare's words with clarity, he did pick up two sharp "t" sounds and a hissing "f" that preceded the second "t." Along with that, it was hard to mask the humming of syllables echoed along the stone walls - buh..buh.. BUhbuhbuh. After waiting a few moments, his mind aflurry with the bits of information he had been given, along with wondering whether dissecting the secrets of his own sovereign was even allowed, morally speaking, Raglan got the chance to offer a wink to Bexley's fluttering lashes and blow her a kiss.
A huff of laughter was followed by a teasing "Awh, there's my doll," flung in Miss Briar's direction before Raglan shifted his weight to the other side - patience, while necessary in his world, had never been a virtue of the Silvertongue.
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