THE GOLD IS SLEEPING IN THE RIVER

Trygve had gotten his horns trimmed down to the weight of them starting to make his injured neck begin to ache horribly, he supposed that was his own fault for getting hurt in the first place and it felt odd not having large horns on his skull anymore. His horns were around a medium size and he was certain that they would grow back in time but that didn't help with the fact that Ry felt naked in a sense with a large proportion of them having been taken off for his own well being. He supposed that he could get something to help him not feel such a way but, Ry wasn't sure of how to go about it. A frown on his maw as his mottled tail lashed to the sides looking at his reflection through a mirror and lifted a paw to touch his horns "Shit..." He had to think out of the box, right? He placed around for a few moments only to nibble the bottom of his lip.

Suddenly, a thought came to his mind; what would Natyli do? His sister already had nubs for horns and didn't seem bothered by it at all, he could respect that though most of his ego had probably been within those horns of his. Something he had been proud of in his appearance anyways, he tilted his head to the side only to let out a groan and settled his paw down but flinched when something wet touched his toebeans, he lifted it up only to realize that it was Gael's paints. Oh shit, he had forgotten to put them away and he began to clean up until an idea came to his mind as he stared at the paints themself. No, Gael would get angry if he wasted the paints... But, Ry could always make the trip back to the Typhoon and get him more so really... Would it be bad if he used a little?

Flowers always looked nice... So, Trygve had spent about a good half hour to make himself look... dazzling, he had gotten some fake flowers that he had wrapped around his horns though they had been of a white color until he had used the paints to make them into a purple and pink gradient with a few white speckles. He actually quite liked the look of it and had somewhat forgotten about the loss of half of his horns, a tired smile on his maw as he stepped out of the treehouse not realizing that his paws were still covered in paint. Was this how peacocks felt about their plumage? He wasn't certain but if it was then he definitely loved it, his ears twitching as he closed both of his eyes in a content manner.

/ one word prompt; dazzling