So perfectly demure in her actions, Galileo considered that perhaps she had been raised of noble birth. There had been nothing that interested him less than court intrigue, but maybe she enjoyed that. He shuddered at the thought of playing pretend in big castles and dressing up in silly outfits. No, he'd much rather leave himself wild, a servant of nobody but Mother Nature herself.
He listens intently, more than willing to learn about the earth in which he trespasses. It sounds as though she is in a similar situation to him, born from afar and finding themselves wandering these lands. "I no longer enjoy meeting such kinds of kings and queens," he admitted honestly, though was shocked that he let that slip out so easily. Quickly, he changed the subject -- something less controversial. "A vagabond, eh? That certainly sounds wily and unruly."
When she -- no, Willoughby -- suggests she must go, he finds himself not wanting her to leave. The strange feeling oozes out of his chest and into his bones and in response, he takes a step forward towards her with bright, rejuvenated eyes. As he stumbles towards her, he feels odd, as though the size difference between them is made up for by an invisible force shrouding the pair. "Allow me to walk you to where you need to go", he commented, and so his mind was changed simply by her asking of him.
Not one for conversation, he fell silently beside her. There were many things he wanted to say, but nerves and pride (though he would never dare admit the former) held his tongue. Instead, he let her guide the topics they would discuss on their trek, though he hoped it would never end.
“I have met very few nobles” Willoughby goes on, her voice taking a slight solemn tone “the ones I have met are... sad” she does not pose this as a question though. She knows in her heart that is how they display themselves. “it must be suffocating to need to act a certain way, and behave a certain way. Just to please others.”
Once again, she does not prod at him. The maiden considers it a victory he said anything remotely opinionated. The man seems the type to seclude himself. Be around none but himself. She could be quite wrong though. He could be just shy. She gives a little shake as if shaking away the bad thoughts, pleased when Galileo approaches. He wants to escort her, but she strangely just wants to make sure he's okay.
Ah, the worrying types never end.
“How kind of you” she grins, amusement lighting up her blue eyes “I'll make you regret such an offer though. I'm told I like to wander off and chat to anything across my path.” Rocks, birds, flowers... Anything. Still, he falls in step with her. Willoughby titters quietly, half amused, and leads him on slowly. She is mindful of the wall having held him up.
So she keeps a slow pace. “I think my favorite part of the desert is the oasis” she muses after a beat of silence “yes, I think that is my favorite part of Solterra. Have you been here long, Galileo?”
“speech”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
It is slightly difficult for him to keep up with her, and he is wary about overusing his leg, but he continues regardless. Ears pricked in her direction to show he is listening, even if he is lagging behind, he steps carefully over fallen rocks, considering his steps more so than ever so as not to end up in the predicament he'd been in again. Still, the slim pastel figure ahead of him had saved him once, and the more she spoke, the more he admitted she could likely do it again.
"I know what you mean," he said, his mind creeping into the distance as his thoughts wandered. "Lonely and sad." Nodding in agreement, he partly spoke to her, but partly confirmed it to himself.
Perhaps then, she was not of noble birth? He considered, was it rude to ask? Galileo rarely made conversation with women; the mares he did interact with usually happened to be in brothels or the like. And not much talking happened on those occasions. "You don't do that then?" He questioned. "You don't act a certain way to please others?" He was pretty sure he was guilty of that.
They eventually catch up with one another, her slowing down and him speeding up, and he finds himself flanking her side. Broad wings sit neatly tucked away and he notices her hair is tied up in buns, much like the ones he used to sport when he was commander in the Red Waste.
When she tells him she is, essentially, a chatterbox, he is glad of it. It means the conversation will be full and there will be no awkward silences between them. He laughs a deep and rumbling laugh that ricochets off the canyon wall. "I see. Well, please, talk away. I am much more of a listener."
Then, she goes on. Her thoughts tumble out, racing each other to the finish line, and Galileo struggles to keep up. But it makes him smile and he pauses before answering her, allowing his mind to digest her chattering. "Hmm," he mused slowly, allowing her to pass through a narrow gap in the canyon first (in an almost gentlemanly fashion, would you believe). "These canyons have offered a fair amount of protection. From the elements, and from those who, er, wish to disturb my peace.,. Not you though, of course. I am very glad of you and your help. I- yes, I would still be stuck. And who knows what I would have done. So, uh, thank you, again." A little flustered, he shakes his antlers to try and focus his sparkling mind.
Some held higher ranks with the worship of gods. Some played much stock in it. This was why Galileo's view was refreshing. He not only agreed with her, but he left some things unspoken. Things that she was curious to know about, but refused to dive deep in there and insult him with pestering. “I think I worry too much when I meet those that I want to like me” Willoughby says almost quietly, her smile forlorn.
“Otherwise, I try to be myself. If they seem to like me past that, then I worry if I'm holding their interest or underwhelming their expectations” she bites back a sigh, chuckling instead. She shakes her head. “I wish I could say I have the confidence to be myself all the time, but I am only mortal. I make mistakes like any others do.” But she did not have the burden of nobility. It was something entirely different.
Her smile grows more genuine as he reaches her slowed side, proclaiming he was a listener more than a talker. She did not mind this, but only was concerned she was talking his ear off. He may just be being polite but she appreciated his words. A nod was given to Galileo as they continued, before he spoke again. “Oh, do many seek you out?” she asked him, curious. “but please; do not be so embarrassed. I was happy to help.”
She beams at him again, looking away after staring at his handsome face. It was... rather cute when he stumbled. “I would never leave someone alone, even if I could not personally help” Willoughby utters with some soft conviction “I hear the desert is cold during the night. Imagine being out here alone, stuck and cold... It breaks my heart.” she pauses, glancing at him from the side.
“Do... you find it lonely, to be out here? By yourself?” she asked him quietly, tentatively.
“speech”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
Pausing to absorb what she was saying, he plainly nodded as she spoke of wanting to be liked. If that had not been the dominant feeling of his youth, perhaps he would have been more... emotionally available these days. The girl seemed to be an interesting combination of naivety and yet intelligence, if the two could go together. But there was something about her that made him hang off her every word... If he was honest, he was the opposite to her these days. Generally, if someone didn't like him, he could not care less. There had been a fair few tavern brawls when those tensions had come to a head, but nothing he couldn't hold himself in. After all, he was the trained warrior.
With a grin, he puffed his chest out proudly. "I can assure you that nobody makes more mistakes than myself," he confirmed proudly. His past was probably not something to joke about, but she didn't know anything about it, and he was less than bothered. Maybe it would hurt less if he made light of it? "I'll be honest, you seem pretty confident to me, unless you've managed to have me fooled."
The path winded upwards now, leading them out towards the dazzling daylight. He realised they were nearing the end of their journey, approaching the borders of the canyons, but he did not want the trip to end. Snorting with a laugh, he shook his head in response to her question. "Nobody seeks me out, Willoughby. At least not in these lands. I am the great unknown ogre who lives under their metaphorical bridge. I can imagine you are in high demand, however. An intelligent young woman like yourself, and all."
He decided he would not mention that there was always the possibility he was being tracked by those from his homeland. But that was far from here, he was sure of it.
"Well, I appreciate you not leaving me, that's for sure." Humble words spilled out of his mouth and he kept his gaze low and respectful. She moved on quickly, speaking of the cold and the loneliness.
"Honestly," he answered carefully, scoffing and grunting a little. "I like being alone. Tends to be the case that the majority of those I meet don't exactly understand me." He supposed that didn't mean he wasn't lonely, however. "There are things much worse than being alone. Like dead, for example." The final words were said matter of factly, and from anyone else's mouth, it would have been a joke. But Galileo was deadly sincere, for he had been up close and personal with the cold gaze of Death himself many a time.
Death was an old enemy that had sucked the lives from injured soldiers -- his injured soldiers -- on the ruby-stained battlefields with a thirsty glee, his wicked teeth shining from a cavernous grin and eyes as barren as no man's land, where no affection, no care, and no mercy grew.
-
@Willoughby
retrospective socially inept leo at his finest
She was quite happy that he seemed to be opening up more. If she was honest, she liked talking to Galileo, but when was she not honest? Willoughby felt a giggle slip from her lips at his insistence he'd make more mistakes than her. Than anyone. He seemed very confident of this fact. But before she could tease or remark back, he pointed out that she seemed confident.
“Perhaps I just” she searched for the right word, flickering her eyes away from his face to view the landscape before them “am ignorant” the maiden settled on that singular word for a few seconds. “they say it is bliss, to not be aware of the world.” She had not been privy to many tragedies.
So she felt she was unburdened by it. Therefore, she could not point fingers at anyone for their past. It was just logical to the young woman. “I suppose” and pink tinted her cheeks at his compliment “I entertain many with singing and dancing; but most do not like to know me beyond that.” They wanted to believe she was a pretty little songbird.
They didn't want to believe she was capable of anything more than what she looked like. Fragile. Delicate. Pretty, but ignorant. Stupid in a way. She pauses again, a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, you are the first ogre I have met” so she couldn't attest to others “but you don't seem bad at all.” Perhaps a bit lonely, even if he would deny it.
“Oh?” he liked being alone, he says, and she wonders if she is bothering him. “that is quite sad” Willoughby remarks upon those not understanding him “but you know; it isn't your fault” she adds, glancing his way again “those others just aren't willing to accept you.”
Yes, that must be it. “It is a shame, I think” she adds to Galileo “even if they don't agree with you, they should at least be willing to accept who you are. Acceptance doesn't have right or wrong. It isn't about agreeing or disagreeing. Embracing another takes courage, I suppose. They do not have it.”
“speech”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
There was that darned giggle again. He stared at her now, perhaps more rather obviously, though he didn't realise he was doing it. That whisp of hair that had escaped from her bun, those cerulean eyes tinted with mischief and simple happiness, and her face carved like a sculptor's finest statue -- he took them all in. A laugh as light as that was not weighed down by heavy memories or flashbacks of difficult moments. It rejuvenated him, adding something to his very soul.
"Maybe you are. Ignorant, I mean," he mused, listening to her intently. "But there's not anything wrong with that, if you're willing to learn. You're young, there's time to see the world in all it's glory and heartache. At least, in my opinion. And you shouldn't pay too much mind to that now." Part of him wanted to... protect her. Her innocence and her heart. There were bad equines out there who would seek her harm, and Galileo knew if anyone ever tried, he would gladly rip their gullet from their necks.
Singing and dancing, eh? Talented as well as intelligent? Everything she did impressed him a little further, though he was beginning to expect the unexpected from the delicate creature. "Are you any good? Where do you perform?" He questioned, for all the women who sang and danced for him had been... well, women of the night, to put it delicately. And that was not this young woman.
When she comments that his life is sad, he is a little taken aback. He'd never considered it sad before, but simply his existence. What he had liked, for so long, and he knew no better. But then she says it isn't his fault, and he feels... relieved, in a way that he didn't know he needed. Perhaps he had been shouldering blame for so long that he had become used to it's burden.
For some reason, when she spoke, everything she said, he believed.
"I don't need their acceptance." He scoffed, trying to seem 'manly', whatever that meant. Puffing his chest, he held his head a tad higher indignantly, though as she continues and he truly listens to her words, he relaxes once again.
"You know, I thought you were going to be naïve. But you speak of this world like you've known it as long as I." Pairing a smile with his words, he came to a stop as he reached the border. "If anything, you are more mature than many I have met. You remind me of someone..." he trailed off, leaving the air devoid of his voice.
-
@Willoughby
last one for the night as i am sleepy
She nods as she notices they are nearly at the end of their little journey. Willoughby recalls in that instant her bard master, how he had been so willing to protect her from the bad that he denied her anything remotely cruel. In itself, that was cruel. She had not shed many tears and felt pain in her heart. It was like denying part of herself, to herself and the world. Denying them the means to know who she truly was. Did she even know?
“You have a point” she smiles slowly, much more calm than her hyperactive ones usual to her “no one wishes to be hurt, to see hurt... it happens at it's own pace. Like falling in love or meeting some good, kind people. Or even listening to a lovely song.” Willoughby still looked through rose-tinted glasses at the world of Novus. But she knew the people here had suffered.
If only she could help them. Ease their burdens...
“W-Well” her cheeks pink again “I leave it to the audience to judge if I am 'good'...” she chuckles with a shake of her head “I like to think I am decent, and that my songs bring joy to the world. Even for a fleeting moment. As a vagabond, I travel to many courts. I roam their lands and ply my trade there. But I am especially fond of the Night Market.”
The cobblestone streets and the bustle of activity... Most would assume the Night Court was secretive, dull and 'edgy'. But she saw such life in their world. “Solterra was my next stop, so here I am.” she adds to Galileo. Visiting the court here was oft overlooked. They liked soldiers and battle. She was a delicate little thing, liking the arts and charisma attached to trade. So she did not so much fit in here...
Galileo, however, proclaims he didn't need their acceptance. She was quiet, feeling that was rather sad too. He might be lonely, or denying himself the simple joy of others. “I would like others to accept me” she goes on, refusing to point the finger at her companion “perhaps one day I can be confident with myself. Until then, I would like to learn. New things. Old things. Anything.”
Yes, she would love to learn. Maybe not how to fight but to... be more than what she felt she could be. “Do I?” Willoughby halts with him, a few paces ahead and looking back at him “I hope good memories, then?”
“speech”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
Watching her carefully, he sees her daydream, her eyes clouding slightly as she drifted away from reality. Perhaps she, like his own mind, only let her thoughts wander occasionally -- when time permitted it. Youth was made to be protected, and so he worried that she has seen more than any young horse should.
He considered all the times he had been hurt, both physically and otherwise. Perhaps he had not wished to be hurt, but there were certainly things he could have done to prevent the hurt from occurring in the first place. And so was the weight on the shoulders of the guilty.
Falling in love was something he had very little experience of, and so he couldn't comment on that. But he imagined it to be like that moment when you first plunged into battle, unsure of how much heartache lay at the end, but bound in the knowledge that there was likely to be some -- even if the outcome was what you had hoped.
If he was honest, he hadn't heard of the Night Market, but he was glad of it being brought to his attention. That would serve as useful knowledge for the future. "Maybe I shall come see you there, one day," he mentioned, a smile playing on his velveteen muzzle.
"Very good memories," he agrees. Pausing for a heartbeat, he wonders if he should go on. "My younger sister, in fact. A learned soul, wise beyond her years. She'd be a bit older than you now." He mused, allowing his mind to travel back in time to the time he spent playing with Lynx in the courtyard of their home, racing among the cloisters.
"Yes, here you are." He agreed, peering out over the Solterran lands thoughtfully. "Willoughby..." he begins, unsure of himself but willing to get out what needed to be said. "If you were to ever need me - that is, for whatever reason - then all you need to do is send word, and I will be there in a heartbeat." The promise was made in an instance, scarcely knowing one another, but it was filled with sincerity. "I don't have many friends in these lands, and good conversation is hard to come by. Especially if you're like me, and prefer to listen. So, what I'm trying to say, is don't be a stranger." Galileo allowed himself to meet her gaze, standing a foot or so away in front of her, towering above like a skyscraper.
Ah, yes, it would indeed seem like their journey was at an end. As closing words were exchanged between mare and stallion, she stood at the border of civilization and wilderness. Willoughby listened to Galileo's words as per habit, absorbing them, noticing he hesitate at the end. She was flattered she was almost akin to his sibling, bowing her head bashfully at the comparison.
“I never try to be a stranger” she proclaims with a giggle, but she knew what he meant. Fleeting encounters like this did not give merit sometimes. She would never see most of the people she had met again. Strange, but terribly mortal. Life was fleeting. “but you said you lurk around the canyon, so I'll definitely be by again.”
She grins at him, recalling the ogre and bridge talk. “At least you can say someone seeks you out then, yes?” she teases him gently, and if he was close by she would have prodded his shoulder. As it was, he stood before her. Taller than any man or woman she had encountered, truly. “unless you don't want me to?”
Willoughby adds this also in jest, moving around him to seek the streets of Solterra. She remarks quietly that he doesn't seem to be limping, so that was good. Giving a nod to the man as she passes him, she walks off. She doesn't even give him time to reply to her little tease, as if nothing needed to be said between them. That he actually did want her to seek him out. / EXIT
“speech”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
![[Image: ddjamb1-122f9879-334b-49d3-9bc8-46d9c2fb...TM43jI0AC0]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/976c7a49-1931-4cb7-a8f2-7f2f0babf2a7/ddjamb1-122f9879-334b-49d3-9bc8-46d9c2fb1b18.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3sicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvOTc2YzdhNDktMTkzMS00Y2I3LWE4ZjItN2YyZjBiYWJmMmE3XC9kZGphbWIxLTEyMmY5ODc5LTMzNGItNDlkMy05YmM4LTQ2ZDljMmZiMWIxOC5naWYifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.7WunW61zJYHTvK2AFA21ZN1a1QKTYkgXXTM43jI0AC0)
