Posted on September 24, 2015 at 04:16:59 PM by STRACK
STRACKDrawing his mottled frame from the tumultous sea, Strack finds the sands of Kjartan's Paradise with his knees. His chest heaves in a combination of fatigue and defeat as he rolls to his side and lays his soaking wet frame against the warm sands of the shoreline. The warmth here is different than the warmth in the Dunes -- it is less suffocating and more welcoming, but perhaps that is because he knows he will be greeted by Kjartan and not by Valve, or Maslakhat, or Gabbar. A loud and exasperated sigh (which sounds more like a violent eerrrrrgghh, if we are being honest) escapes the stallion's ajar mouth, but thankfully the sound is mostly drown out by the water of the channel. The winds are strong today, and he can only assume it is to punish him for his defeat.
After some time, the Nez Perce forces himself from the earth and stands erect once again, his coat dusted in sand and his mane and tail still clinging to his muscled body. He wanders absentmindedly. The contours of Paradise are pleasant and Strack is immediately fond of them, and he's quite suddenly hopeful that Kjartan will allow him to live within the borders of his territory. Whinnying loudly, the black-pointed stallion calls for the steel grey beast he had met just weeks earlier, when they had both wandered into the Dunes with a curiosity for its unforgiving nature.
It doesn't take the speckled stallion long to find Kjartan. He offers up a small smile for the other male before halting a few yards away, his head held low in an act of submission.
"My friend, I need your help."
THE SUN SAID, "IT HURTS TO BECOME,"
After some time, the Nez Perce forces himself from the earth and stands erect once again, his coat dusted in sand and his mane and tail still clinging to his muscled body. He wanders absentmindedly. The contours of Paradise are pleasant and Strack is immediately fond of them, and he's quite suddenly hopeful that Kjartan will allow him to live within the borders of his territory. Whinnying loudly, the black-pointed stallion calls for the steel grey beast he had met just weeks earlier, when they had both wandered into the Dunes with a curiosity for its unforgiving nature.
It doesn't take the speckled stallion long to find Kjartan. He offers up a small smile for the other male before halting a few yards away, his head held low in an act of submission.
"My friend, I need your help."
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