Your King Asmodeus | ||
Your Queen | ||
The Second None | ||
The Herd Name, Name, Name | The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name | |
Allies Name (Land) | Enemies Solomon (Cove) | |
The Rules
| ||
Posted on July 4, 2012 at 06:08:13 PM by El Aran
Samson’s first words were persuasive. He could be taught, and his very willingness to learn bespoke of intelligence. But the Desert herd was still small, and with two able-bodied fighters (for all the Encantador might doubt his own abilities), there was not yet much need for a third. Not that El Aran considered Samson able-bodied: these islands were soft, and its offspring softer without war to harden the hearts of foals. She glanced to the side as Encantador approached and she smelled the sweat on him. The black mare extended her nose to his and exchanged breaths with her partner, wondering at the patchy darkness of his coat. He was silent, however, and so she returned her attention to the black stallion in front of her. Glad that Misty had the good sense to keep quiet, El Aran turned her ears back as Samson spoke again and repeated himself. Once again, the matter of conflict within the family was brought up, and the black mare was tired of hearing about it. "You have yet to convince me," she replied, her voice sharp with annoyance. "And there is little room in the Desert for moronlar. This land," she continued, looking out over the loose sands and shifting to lean into Encantador, "has no room for idle thought or lax guards. There is danger all around us, every day. The sun, the sand, the small creatures who walk the Desert with us— we must be aware of all of it, and at all times. You bring your own troubles into this land as if we do not have our own already. Your can offer us no true strengths, only the promise of being able to learn. Perhaps a bachelor herd would be a better place to begin your education." The damp contact she had with Encantador’s coat made her blood thrum, and she longed to speak with him away from Samson and Misty. But business came first, and until that had been attended to El Aran would contain her curiosity. In all likelihood, Encantador had been out for a run. But the sun was hot, and only a fool would waste such energy. The seer quelled her rising concern and blew out a long, slow breath, waiting for Samson to accept her words as wise. No one could fault her for rejecting him: he was not of her blood, nor was the Desert on the islands at war. And he was young yet, and untried. If he’d attempted to join a herd back in the desert where El Aran came from, he would have received a similarly worded dismissal. Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia |
Replies:
- DREAMS are wishes casted - By Misty and Samson July 8, 2012 at 11:32:25 PM
- x - By Canta July 16, 2012 at 10:24:10 PM
Post a reply: