What Could It Mean? - Tumblr Posts

You all just wanna be him and it's pathetic

Not gonna specifically tag anyone...but reblog if you feel like it and put yours in the tags.

13th-dragon-prince--[Prior]

[...]It was not a rare thing to see him do, most often towards the Ashfoot who would lean down to let him nudge her in greeting; Gil’s were actual contests of headbutts that only Alisaie seemed to agree too. Here, it was soft, as if testing - an ask of permission if anything. Though, as he waited on the ground, the wily lizard clicked air against his teeth twice in a very similar way to how Brynhorn had done to get his mount moving.

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The snake like wiggles of Whill's tail after they stopped had Bryn eyeing it like it might try to devour him with some hidden mouth, before his attention was drawn back to the owner of said tail, the purr of the little dragon in response to his perception comment only confirming that Bryn was right about it. He found his hand taken, and Bryn let it be held, the two sitting there for a moment as he just...listened. His eyes closed, feeling his heartbeat, feeling the way his body was pressed to Whillow's, and letting his thoughts wander. For a moment, it wandered to places he rarely let it, memories of snow, of blood, of danger quickening the sharp beat of his heart, and then calmer thoughts slowing it. He had no way of knowing that Whill could feel that so acutely, the way he reacted to memories, so he didn't try to hide it, opening his eyes to see the petite gecko staring up at him.

The slow rub of claws over his knuckles was kind, almost soothing, as silver met silver, wholly not expecting those words that left him more confused than calmed. "Poe...nah?" He butchered it, he was sure, his eyebrow lifting as he released the reigns fully and eyed his charge with curiosity. It hasn't sounded like common, that word, and he couldn't place the language in any he knew. His thoughts were interrupted by movement, his head tilting down--

Close. Right there close. Whillow had turned, rotating in the seat to face him, and his hands were on his chest, eyes peering up at him, and his taloned feet were at his sides. It was a position that gave a sense of closeness he hadn't expected to receive, to be in, to find himself staring into serious eyes. It was a long, serious moment, one where Bryn hardly darrd to breath during, his face softening with each moment before Whillow pulled himself up, using Bryn's shoulders as the soldier stayed strong in his sitting position.

One moment, he had scaled lizard in his lap. The next, he had a full fledged gecko standing over him, feet braced on his thighs, hands on his shoulders, and looking down at him. That was incredibly amusing for both him and the shorter male, reaching up and bracing the little dragon at his hips, keeping him upright and balanced on his legs as he cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was planning up there, or if maybe he just wanted to feel taller for a moment. Instead, he was given more riddles, his name used to describe himself in the most circular of ways. He was trying to puzzle that one out when the shift gave him warning, and then-

The soft headbutt, or really hornbutt, left the Sergeant stunned and staring ahead at nothing, the wily half-dragon gone and already on the ground, the chittering laugh the only thing left behind as Bryn sunk into a memory.

A memory of someone reaching up, taking his face, when he was at his most dangerous, and resting her head to his.

Calming him.

Putting her own life in his hands.

Featherflame studiously ignored the clicks Whillow made, her loyalty lying with a non-clawed Hyur, but even she could read the sudden energy that buzzed around her owner. He was sliding out of the saddle, right after Whill as he tracked the gecko with a firm, demanding gaze. He strode forward, Featherflame chirping in concern, but he was in front of Whillow in a moment, his hand reaching up, slipping around behind his head, just above the nape of his neck and--

He pulled the gecko to him, leaning down, head tilted, pressing his forehead to those horns, holding Whillow there as his silver eyes gleamed in greeting, in a way he knew the instinctual side of the half dragon would get. Their breath mingled, his eyes held his, and he let the friendly gecko see that wild nature just below the surface. It wasn't quite the same as the headbutt, but it had the same intent. Hello, I am Bryn. I see you, and you see me. It was an offer, and an acceptance of the one offered to him, and after a long moment, his fingers untangled from the locks of hair on the back of Whill's head, Bryn rising back to his full height, and peering down at the short fighter as he breathed out in a coarse whisper, "Let's go."

He turned, un-slinging his rifle from the saddle bag, the strap going over his head and a finger pressing to where a hammer would fall, aether collecting and priming the rifle as he didn't wait for Whill, moving with sure footing towards the bridge leading to that spire, and to the resting place of old and powerful dragons. If he had questions, he could ask, and Bryn would answer.