The struggle was real.
Only fought her most of the way but much to his dismay no matter how hard he tried he could not get past her or her Great reach with such powerful wings to cage him whenever he tried to bolt. Even now, as Aislinn leads him down a dark and narrow, stone-walled path he wants to fight her - to turn away. It becomes clearer and clearer (as clear as Aislinn's crystal-blue eyes) that he is not from around here (or
Delumine even, when was the last time he was 'home'?) - or anywhere familiar enough to even try and remotely find common ground.
"What madness is this! Why must I see a
King? Are we not free?" His ideas are feral, a noble busker by day and a terrible fink by night, he lives for himself as he always has and it has never been a problem until now. The idea of being captured and sentenced for living lawlessly seems awfully daunting and it only takes one swift shove from Aislinn to have Stephan laughing at him about it as well.
Such a fool. Stephan cackles madly in the middle of Only's racing thoughts and it only furthers the paranoia that the black stallion starts to feel. Only twists and turns against her but a thick beam of feathers cuff him against the chest and push him forward. The warrior who walks him to justice can only smile her tempestuous smile.
You wicked woman, he wants to say but holds his tongue. There is something about Aislinn that Only hates to appreciate.
Is it the bunches of hair she holds in elegant grips and gathers of flowers, baubles, and jewels? Does it remind him of all the lightning storms he slept under a lifetime ago or does it remind him of buttercream girls with beehives for heads? Something that he cannot quite put his knife on. And Lavinia too, something beneath the quiet calm in both of their faces leave him on edge - as if they know something he doesn't know. He feels like an intruder, an outcast in the worst kind of way. The unwanted kind of way.
The joke's on him because that is the truth and he hasn't figured it out quite yet.
"I will go back to the river, please just let me go. I don't even know where I
am - please. I'll tell you anything you want - anything, just let me go." He pleads and pleads the way weasels do when they swindle their squirrely neighbors out of their winter caches knowing they'll die without them. The stone walls feel like they are closing in on him with how tall they are - in a way this kind of darkness makes him feel hopeless enough to want Stephan to save him. He gives Aislinn as much of a hard time as he possibly can before she brings him to doors that are big in a way that makes him think about dragons. He would think about his old friend Henry if he wasn't so distracted by how Aislinn's eyes glitter electric and bright in the dark.
"Please I - I just
thought about doing it - I didn't actually mean to take their knives. Haven't your thoughts come to life yet? I have seen it in others. I don't know how to control it." Lies, lies,
lies-lies-lies, all he can do is lie. All he can do is give lousy excuses. His golden feet dance nervously as he spins and tries his best to avoid the door. Only is agile even in the crook of her reach. It takes two - three of these Night-creatures to coral him off until he has no choice but to go forward. Out of desperation, a sweep of his long blonde tail flicks out wildly as the very last bits of him struggle to stay on the other side of the door.
"I want my phone call!" Only calls out into the night but his odd request surely falls upon deaf ears for the phrase as foreign as the dawn-court thief is in this bat country.
@Lavinia @Reichenbach @Morrígan @Kasil @
Aislinn
@
Florentine - if you'd like to represent him/if a representative is needed for trial!
( ooc: I hope you don't mind the struggle he puts up! He would inflict no damage nor be successful because Aislinn could probably bend him in half. I would not mind him being exiled, marked for this, or imprisoned for this for however long you deem fit - feel free to peep at me if you have any questions! No maiming or death penalties please!)
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