I've walked with the kings, and I've marched to the pounding drums
The seasons are changing - everyone and everything senses it. Temperatures are dropping, the leaves are changing colors, and animals are busy preparing for the upcoming winter months. Mashkull himself is experiencing changes due to the seasons turning. His tan hide is every so slightly darkening and the hair on his body is thickening, preparing for colder weather. For now though, winter is just a hint of cold hair in the breeze and a chill in the water.
Mashkull wonders though, if this winter will be a mild one or if the islands here experience colder months than he is used to. He has heard idle talk of how each of the four main islands differ vastly in climate and terrain as well. This fascinates him - although he has yet to venture beyond this one small part of the archipelago he has found himself in. The buckskin stallion has not had a real reason to move beyond the 'crossing' as the locals call it. If invited, his mild curiosity would most likely win out over his caution of the unknown. He looks briefly towards the beach, not far off in the distance. The chill of the water is a little discouraging, however. Mashkull doesn't hold a strong love for extreme temperatures and isn't too keen on participating in a 'polar bear plunge'. This is really what has held him back from exploring the area extensively.
The shock of the cold water does not seem to stop everyone. Mashkull's honey brown eyes spot a distant figure hauling themselves out of the water. Impressed, the buckskin watches as the figure shakes the salt water from their body and surveys the area. After a moment, he grows bored and returns to his grazing. That is, until he hears hooves approaching and a low greeting. Lifting his head, he rumbles his own greeting in return. Ears pricked and eyes bright, he watches as a pretty splotched cremello mare approaches. Judging by the water still poised on her coat, this is the figure he saw earlier.
"Hello. The intrusion is welcome." Mashkull tilts his head every so slightly at the introduction. A queen? This land is strange indeed. His home had no real rulers, just small bands of herds that sometimes bickered over members or grazing rights. There was no direction to it all. "Mariael is a beautiful name. I am Mashkull. Pleasure to meet you - although I'm not sure if I should bow or not."" Chuckling lightly, the stallion dips his head slightly in a show of respect. He is many things, but he is not rude.
Eyes shining, he waits to see just what this queen might want. In the back of his mind, he is also wondering just how much he doesn't know about this strange new land his wanderlust has brought him to.
mashkull
male / 4 / mutt / buckskin [Ee/Aa/nCr] / 16 hh / ro |