<font color=4f6367 face=times>have heart%01 my dear; we're bound to be afraid</font>

Your King Asmodeus
Your Queen ~~Nyimara~~
The Second None
The Herd Name, Name, Name		The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name
Allies Name (Land)		Enemies Solomon (Cove)
The Rules There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue. We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc. The King and Queen have final say in all matters.

have heart, my dear; we're bound to be afraid
Posted on June 23, 2012 at 05:59:05 PM by e n c a n t a d o r

e n c a n t a d o r
It is midday, and yet Encantador has only just awoken. The light hurts his eyes as he gazes upwards to check the position of the sun, and he averts his gaze almost immediately, dazzled. It's several moments before he's rid himself of the colored speckles floating in his vision. Then he stands straighter from atop the dusty perch of his favorite little hillock and scans the landscape for his herd. He can see the dark silhouettes of Sova and Misty in the distance, grazing on the plain of prickly desert grass. El Aran, as usual, is in a completely different place; it takes his tired eyes a minute to locate her and another minute to realize that she's with another who is pale as milk.

Just a few weeks before he had been concerned about El Aran's sleeping habits; now it seems they've spread to him. The last few days he's slept hardly at all during the night, troubled by thoughts of Dany and their unborn child and where they might be, whether they were hurt or lost or if Dany had finally decided to abandon him once and for all. During the day he is strong and confident for the good of the herd to disguise how anxious he is at night, with only his thoughts to keep him company. But today his sleeplessness has caught up to him and despite the short doze he's just taken, he feels like the walking dead as he peers across the shimmering beige sands to make sense of what he is seeing. As if in a dream his limbs carry him there without effort, and the next thing he knows, he is standing before his partner and his half-sister.

Why am I never well-rested when I see her? At least I'm not emaciated like before. Despite his exhaustion, he manages a surprised smile. "Valencia," he states simply, and swishes his dark tail against his creamy flanks.

six-year-old stallion of the desert;
son of el barroco and writhe

Replies:

The Gods contend in vain - By El Aran June 29, 2012 at 08:59:57 PM
- live for now forget forever - By valencia July 11, 2012 at 10:01:42 PM
  - x - By Canta July 20, 2012 at 02:40:00 PM

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