His musings were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats gradually drawing nearer, a voice rising above the crashing of the ocean waves below:
"Are you trying to dive head first into the sea?”
His eyes flickered opened, wincing and blinking in the bright sunlight. The words seemed friendly enough—almost joking—but there was an undercurrent he knew all too well. An air of something akin to aggression, tightly contained but still roiling under the surface. It was a tone he had heard often within the locked Court of Denocte.
He slid his gaze to the side, taking in her gold-and-white splashed form with a sort of bored curiosity, as if the gelding was not in the least bit surprised to see her approach. “Dive? Oh no, I’m imagining what it might be like to fly.” He tracked a seagull with his gaze, watching it soar over the cliff face into open air. It seemed so unfazed by the ground dropping away into nothingness beneath its wings, no tremor of worry shaking its flight path. Bold, confident; the perfect prey.
“Perhaps. Or maybe it will be this unkempt pile of hair that kills me,” and with that he flashed her a wolfish grin, his lips splitting away from his teeth in a fashion that was both gruesome and humorous. “After all, when it gets like this, I’ve got half a mind to cut it off.”
It was an exaggeration, of course—there would be a cold day in hell before Toulouse took a blade to his hairline. But still, he twirled a lock of caramel colored strands around his telekinesis thoughtfully, as if contemplating what he might look like hairless. He had seen others without manes, of course; but somehow, he simply couldn’t imagine himself like one of them.
“I’m Toulouse. From the Night Court,” he spoke again, almost as an afterthought. “Is it just me, or is the air fresher up here?”
@noctiilucent sooo sorry for the wait <3
talking. acting.
rhiaan art
