05-12-2018, 10:26 PM
[div style="background-color: white; width: 100%; font-family: Georgia; color: #576a6e; text-align: center; margin: auto"]BASTILLEPAW AURELIUS ✧
the ascendants — kuiper corporal — tags
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Distractedly, he noticed his mentor nearby, but he only nodded to her in greeting before his attention was back on the filly. She had trotted back over to him and was leaning her head down to stare at him, as if silently demanding to know why he wasn't providing her with all of his attention. Bastille grinned at her in amusement, and murmured, "Oh, my bad. I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to pay attention to anyone else." The filly snorted in his face and then went back to prancing around, investigating various other members and vying for their attentions. She was, frankly, ridiculous.
"Uh--" he stumbled, blinking at Margy in response to her first question. Her name? She wasn't exactly his, or at least Bastille hadn't made that immediately conclusion -- sure, she was following him around, but Bast had assumed that she would carry on her own way at some point. She wasn't his, though as he watched her give little hops and show off, he realized that he wouldn't mind if she stayed. And even if she left, what was the harm in naming her? After a beat, he supplied, "Octavia, I guess." A flicker of amusement. "Really, she found me. She just came out of no where on the border."
He glanced up at the thundering of hooves, and Octavia froze while staring in the same direction with intrigue. Bastille already knew it was Arion; the colt was always high energy and excitable, and that was over other animals. He took a step back, anticipating the flurry of movement as the Thoroughbred made his appearance and bolted for Octavia, and rolled his eyes when the filly started to prance in place in response to the attention. She was practically preening, though she ducked away from his nip -- her mane was, after all, flawless.
"She's more of a princess than you are," Bast muttered, shooting a smirk towards Hazel as she tried to reign Arion back in. Her question brought his attention back up to Octavia, and there was a pause as he considered. He was sure Grimm had the response buried in there somewhere, and after a few moments of trying to filter through various memories and stories, he gave a shrug. "Dunno. Maybe an Arabian, I guess -- she's got the, uh, look." He didn't really know the practical terms for her dish nose or high tail, so he didn't try to explain it.
He glanced away at the sound of Rin's voice, and offered a shrug. "I don't know about that. Most animals hate me, I'm pretty sure," he drawled, a hint of that smirk returning before he looked back to Octavia. "I'm not really sure I have a choice with her, though. She's a bit of a stalker." The filly snorted at him, and then went back to reach her muzzle out to sniff delicately at Arion's mane.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]