Rainforest Cliffs
Roscorro
He hadn't been on the ground two seconds before the mare was bombarding him with a jumble of words after her initial greeting. He blinked, absorbing all of it as he looked down at the oldly shaped rock. "I'm Roscorro..." He answered slowly, his face ponderous.
She wanted blood, blood. Deep within him the voice writhed and screamed. Do not give it to her! He flinched as his gut tied itself in knots as that force within him raged. What was the fault in giving another a drop of his blood? He had dripped a bunch of it on the ground when he found the Metus. He knew the legends of dragon's blood, but his was not pure. It wouldn't grant great healing powers. Plus, she'd have to actually kill him and drink his blood to gain immortality if they were going off of the legends.
His large, gentle eyes lifted from the stone. She was trying to regain her magic. His heart went out to her. He knew all too well the emptiness one felt when their magic was stolen. He too had lost his magic. His face softened. "Will you be able to carry this under your wing without spilling it?" He asked, cocking his head as he looked down at the rock. She had tucked it underneath her wing earlier, but that mode of travel could easily spill the blood. Or a feather could land within it and soak it up, leaving her with nothing.
He looked around himself for a moment. "Here, this might work." He said, moving off towards the trees and foliage. He rummaged in the greener, pulling away bits of ivy, vine, and other long plant fibers. Returning he picked up the little stone cup. Plopping his rump in the dirt he set to work, using his elbows to support his upper body so he could free his hands. With deft fingers he began weaving. It did not take long for him to form a small basket in which the stone sat, secured to the small, twisted rope of vine with which she could hold onto it. "There." He declared in satisfaction. He straighten than held it up for her to see.
Once he was finished he looked to the wounds on his chest, noticing for the first time that he had reopened part of it with his entry into the jungle. Well, it would not be hard to give her a drop of blood. The screaming continued in the back of his mind as he held the stone to his chest. Blood trickled down his taught muscles, landing within the makeshift container. "My own trial gave me these wounds." He commented with a smile in his voice. "Glad to know they are useful for something." He offered her the cup, holding it high enough for her to easily grab hold of the string. When she grabbed hold of it he would gently let it down, so as not the spill its contents. "I hope you are able to restore your magic. I know what it is like to have that gapping void, where your magic should be, within you."
talk talk talk talk
She wanted blood, blood. Deep within him the voice writhed and screamed. Do not give it to her! He flinched as his gut tied itself in knots as that force within him raged. What was the fault in giving another a drop of his blood? He had dripped a bunch of it on the ground when he found the Metus. He knew the legends of dragon's blood, but his was not pure. It wouldn't grant great healing powers. Plus, she'd have to actually kill him and drink his blood to gain immortality if they were going off of the legends.
His large, gentle eyes lifted from the stone. She was trying to regain her magic. His heart went out to her. He knew all too well the emptiness one felt when their magic was stolen. He too had lost his magic. His face softened. "Will you be able to carry this under your wing without spilling it?" He asked, cocking his head as he looked down at the rock. She had tucked it underneath her wing earlier, but that mode of travel could easily spill the blood. Or a feather could land within it and soak it up, leaving her with nothing.
He looked around himself for a moment. "Here, this might work." He said, moving off towards the trees and foliage. He rummaged in the greener, pulling away bits of ivy, vine, and other long plant fibers. Returning he picked up the little stone cup. Plopping his rump in the dirt he set to work, using his elbows to support his upper body so he could free his hands. With deft fingers he began weaving. It did not take long for him to form a small basket in which the stone sat, secured to the small, twisted rope of vine with which she could hold onto it. "There." He declared in satisfaction. He straighten than held it up for her to see.
Once he was finished he looked to the wounds on his chest, noticing for the first time that he had reopened part of it with his entry into the jungle. Well, it would not be hard to give her a drop of blood. The screaming continued in the back of his mind as he held the stone to his chest. Blood trickled down his taught muscles, landing within the makeshift container. "My own trial gave me these wounds." He commented with a smile in his voice. "Glad to know they are useful for something." He offered her the cup, holding it high enough for her to easily grab hold of the string. When she grabbed hold of it he would gently let it down, so as not the spill its contents. "I hope you are able to restore your magic. I know what it is like to have that gapping void, where your magic should be, within you."
talk talk talk talk
You Can be king again
@Aurelia
ooc: Rosco be like. "Um... here. I even gift wrapped it for you." xD
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
