†
Her words stir Temblor's ego to life: his chest swells and he arches his neck, muscles bunching in a deliberate flex to showcase his physical strength for her benefit. "Well," he says quietly, his voice infused with warmth and obviously flattered. Part of his pleasure is her genuine delivery: there is no coy flirtation in her words, only an honest compliment. He does not hold the pose overlong, and relaxes back into their conversation with an easy smile on his face, quite content. More and more, he is pleased with his choice to circle back through the Crossing isle to see who he might meet.
He is especially pleased when Shiloh's eyes light up. It has been a long, long time since anyone has brightened so in his presence, and seeing it now makes him realize how much he has missed it. It feels nice. He'd like to make it happen again, surprise her with something else enjoyable (even though he can only guess, for now, what that might be), especially when the interested glimmer in her gaze fades like a lantern suddenly shuttered against the wind, that bright, dancing flame carefully guarded against the force of a gale.
There is a pause, then, and Temblor reflects on what has caused concern to overwhelm her expression. Paradise itself seems to have been the reason, and he watches her look him over more carefully, as if he has secrets to withhold.
he does, just
not from here
The mood of their conversation has taken a definite shift. She speaks of Tinuvel, and a land within it, neither of which he is very familiar with. Temblor has at least heard of the island, though only through snatches of conversation as he wandered through the social areas on the Crossing during his year of meditation. He nods only in affirmation, not recognition, and waits for what he suspects is coming.
Rougaru. At this point, Temblor might be forced to go hunt the man down himself, just to find a bit of peace. It seems the stallion's name is irreversibly linked with Paradise— no sooner does Temblor state the name of his home than he is asked about its previous inhabitant. Which is, admittedly, impressive, as it speaks to the widespread reputation of the former ruler. Temblor only finds himself increasingly annoyed by the man, for the onus has been placed on his shoulders to account for his apparently inexplicable absence. Temblor has better things to do.
He does not miss how Shiloh's voice quakes when she poses the question. "A name, only," Temblor replies, wondering if that will reassure or disappoint her, "Though I have had the.... pleasure of meeting his son." He snorts lightly. "It seems I stepped on some toes when I laid claim to Paradise. Every other horse I meet asks after him— where did he go, what happened; how am I to know? The land lay empty, ripe for the taking. I took."
And as far as he is concerned, he will keep. Even if Rougaru were to reappear, though at this point he must admit his curiosity about the other stallion has magnified. Who is this man? So far he has met family and former members of the herd; is Rougaru's influence so widespread that he stands now before yet another descendant, another member of the 'pack' adrift in the absence of their leader? Temblor turns the question back around at her. "Who is Rougaru to you?"
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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