Falls

With age, it had brought ignorance. He expected that he had been afforded the ability to be stupid in his decisions. He had gone forth and conquered, he had spread his seed and he had loved his children to the best of his ability.

He only offers the stranger a soft, low chuckle as she corrects him. Already, he has taken a subtle liking to her, preferring her blunt approach to the scathing words of the other woman he had met here. She seemed a little more forgiving, humoring him about the Gods without knowing his true following. “I think they are trying to remind me that they have not forgotten me.” There is no way for him to know that there are dark, horrible things awaiting him on the horizon.

Vercingetorix preferred to live in the moment and know that he did things that brought him personal pleasure.

There is a flutter of movement, and as the red stallion sweeps his head to look in it’s direction, the mare is put on edge, warning him in low, cautious words. The two of them are set on edge, and the stallion presses his red ears back, waiting to be confronted by the newcomer.

It was a man.

A creamy black body, made of bones and with matted hair across his body. He looks sickly, weak, and Vercingetorix foolishly thinks that this is a creature from the woman’s past, reminding her of something and setting her teeth. He is unfamiliar with the fine-boned creatures of the desert, and does not think this is uncommon for their ilk. He sees someone that has fallen on bad times, and at the womans foreign words, he eyes her carefully. “What…”