Broken Dreams ;
( check my vital signs )
The scorn-filled words that flowed from Taboo dropped like little miniature bombs in the air; words that carried a weight and a threat just as physical as Viriarus’ emotional display of power. He prepared for the impact of those bombs, of the former Valk Queen’s further show of massive quantities of magic. Sensing the mare’s tense, distraught emotions, and patching them with the spitfire words she spewed as angrily as her power, he knew that she would never do anything for the land of Scythia. He knew that Taboo could glean much information from her, because although she was pissed beyond all reasoning, she was wise and well versed with the ways of diplomacy and ruling, coaching and training others.
“Without humor one becomes an empty shell, one that only fills with the angry howl of a gale’s storm. Once the wind is gone, the shell becomes empty again, barren, lonesome. This display of power,” he looks up at the firestorm burning in the sky, the mini tornadoes wrecking havoc on the ground, “is something that surpasses the mere word of impressive, just as what you have done in the history of Hoof Prince.”
Broken sees Taboo tensing as the mare inches closer. He and Taboo were similar in the respect that they both enjoyed their personal space, but were willing to shed that comfort in the front of something greater happening.
“Taboo is right, Viriarus; whether you are humble enough to accept that is of your own accord. Time moves, whether it is forwards or backwards. As of now, the past has already been left behind, and for whatever reason, our common god Paduan and his lover Courant decided it is for the best to create this Scythia. They did not ask you or anyone else whether it is good for them. They are supreme beings, we are not, including you. They created this union to make two great things become one, and to make them pound out their differences on this ground.”
He allowed his words as well as Taboo’s words to ring out in the brouhaha, and was not fain to speak up again or take action to defend the land he was squatting on. True, he had not known what the Warrior Men and Amazonian Women had been like before, and knew that the sexes chose to reside amongst their own genders for a reason. However, he would not question what the gods had created, except for that one that would help explain how to better this new race and land.
Broken held his own slot of land, but he was working his diplomacy skills to become aligned with all the kingdoms and be a senator of peace, so to speak.
( to know that I’m still alive and I walk alone )
-create large fireballs & ribbons with quite a bit of heat; control medium sized firewall & small firestorms-
{ 5yrs}{ Swedish Warmblood } { 16.3 HANDS } { Charcoal Gray and Black } { Alpha Stallion of Distant Peaks } {Grandeur ~Anaxandra} *Captive of Freya* { Judith } { Fire lvl IV } {111 tokens}
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