The Gladiator made his way through the land that was now his home. It was funny, this place. Very hot, though it was only spring. Very flat, as if there was nothing that had bothered to pick the sand up in piles. The black stallion found himself liking it rather a lot. Everything here was okay, though it seemed empty. Renaissance, the supposed man of the house, hadn’t been around for a while. At least it seemed that way. The man hadn’t answered his challenge, and when he’d come around there was no one here to defend this place. The Gladiator didn’t see why not. It was a fine place.
He stopped by the main oasis of the land, a clear spring that shone brightly in the hot sun. It was midday… whoever was around here should be seeking shelter from the beating of the rays. The dark stallion found himself basking in the heat. While it was mid spring here, it still felt like winter on some of the islands he’d touched upon. The Gladiator didn’t seem to mind, though. Nothing much fazed him. It may be the only thing that was blatantly obvious about the dark gentleman. He was a neutral creature.
A tail flicks lightly in the arid breeze. Already the man worries for the coming summer… it was only going to get hotter in the Desert. Still, he would make it home. The heat had always suited the creature well, though his dark coat didn’t always seem to embrace it. Thinking it was time to meet with everyone, The Gladiator tipped his head back and called gently for anyone who was still hanging around. It was a very equine sound, the sort that resonates from the chest and echoes forth from the jaws. He was a strong man, not the largest but showed scars around his shoulders and haunches… he was a warrior. He was The Gladiator.
what we do in life
hound’s
echoes in eternity
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