The Lost Islands
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Or you called me up, maybe I wasn't home.

Aralusian | Grullo (EE aa Dd) | 15 hh | Five | Fuchs

Standing in wait for the sand dweller to find him, he wonders how a island could be so different from his with just a short swim in the right direction. In one direction, Tundra, in the other Desert. He was certain he was not suited for either. His humid home was a nice substitute for his swamp home back in Louisiana. How he got here, however far from that, he wasn't sure. His memory did not hold distance and time. Emotions, experiences maybe, but the illusion of time was lost to him.

Heavy lidded eyes glanced around, not holding the same affection for the desert as the liver chestnut charging his way. Suddenly on alert, he used whatever reserved strength that the sun had not yet stolen and threw his ears back. When Badr was upon him with gnashing teeth and battering hooves. With a squeal, Nikola threw his weight away from the stallion, appearing submissive but miffed none the less. This was not his home and he claimed no right to be here but he'd hoped for a better meeting of the minds than this.

Despite his doubts that the brute would calm down enough to listen, Nikola lifted his ears (not completely but enough) to try and appear more docile and less threatening. Obviously he'd miss-stepped and hoping not to leave for home with his tail tucked completely plastered to his underbelly, he tucked his head toward his chest slightly. His eyes never lowered nor closed, ever watching the desert snake that was bound to strike again.

Perhaps it was not a time for words but he tried regardless.
'
"I don' come here t' make the misere. I wus hoping we could come t'some understanding." He stopped there, wanting to gauge his reaction, if he let Nikola speak without another attck.



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