Posted on August 26, 2016 at 04:45:38 PM by KASABiAN
 And its consequences keep you up at night. Kasabian was on a tour of the islands of sorts. It began on Luthien, where he was overdue to see his long lost brother, Shamwari. Along the way he met a few of his pretty and coveted trinkets. The image of the dainty Petal was burned into his memory, perhaps for a ploy that would later drive Shamwari from his home or force him to produce the information he was looking for in the first place. After the Prairie he stopped over on Atlantis, a rare moment of nostalgia driving him back to his old home in the Ridge. It was a short but unsettling trip down memory lane, one that had been rudely interrupted by that dumb oaf, Vodnik. Despite the intrusion, it made Kasabian feel things he hadn't felt in a while. Hazy memories of those he once cared for rose to the forefront of his mind, albeit briefly, but they were there. It left him stunned and confused, and ultimately angry. So he charged back into the surf, despite his suffering hip, and headed toward the next dark mass along the horizon. The tawny stallion can't remember if he'd been to Tinuvel before, but it was unlikely. Kasabian loathed Salem and its oppressive heat, but a terrain that was incessantly cold all year round was almost just as bad. But the lowly stallion emerged on the shoreline of the Tinuvel a soaking mess, nonetheless. He hopped along on three legs as his hip burned from the exertion of the swim and only came to rest once he'd left the grainy beach, passing the icy dunes and striding into a more forest-like terrain. Despite the extreme cold, the terrain smelled of the sea. It hugged the waterway tightly, cusped by mountains. He stopped take it in for a long moment, the stallion's teeth chattering from behind his lips in the light snowfall, and the sides of his barrel rising and falling in quick huffs. One ankle rested while he waited for the throbbing pain in his hip to subside. When he first spied her through the trees, she was like a dream. Her smokey coat stood in stark contrast to blinding, delicate backdrop. She was crying, clearly, and alone in an otherwise desolate area of the Bay. Kasabian didn't know who ruled this land, he didn't really care who did, but this was an opportunity he couldn't let pass him by. He walked up to her at a brisk pace, quietly at first and then he circled her tightly, using his shoulders to try to drive her back toward the open surf. "Don't cry sweetie. Kasabian is here. And we're going. NOW." The stallion said with barred teeth and pinned ears. KASABiAN 13 | Buckskin | Stallion | Arabian X Thoroughbred X Mustang X Halflinger | 16. 1 | © Vinyl |