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graasvoel
His last endeavors in the Threshold had been futile. One woman had vanished, the other Korofi woman had chose to leave with a young (though handsome) colt. But the vulture was not deterred. He was a man of perseverance and ego (perhaps less of the first and more of the latter). And so it was on great, massive, tricolored wings that he soared towards the tree-laden entrance to Helovia. The expansive wings rarely flapped, long feathers and splayed tips built for gliding on thermals more than anything else.
Though he realized his mistake of flying above the canopy as he couldn't actually see the newcomers beneath it." “Vervloek bome,“ the annoyance pushed out his dark lips, stark against his white face as red-ringed irises sharpened on the earth below, attempting to find a place to land between the branches. It took a long while, but finally he found a break in the leaves. It was small, for his gargantuan size, and thus a great crashing of limbs accompanied his descent.
Twigs and leaves snarled into his knotted mane and feathered legs, a few bright and glossy feathers were bent or left amid the canopy above him. But he had no eyes for what was above him, only what was before him: a woman.
She was masked, like many of the plateaus were masked. But she was wingless, and therefore not Korofi-born. Perhaps she is from a Korofi and Debwani coupling? It was unlikely that the timid Debwani would ever come close to the barbaric people of the plateaus… but he had seen (and done) stranger things during his time in the pleasure houses of Uumalah.
His attention skitters to the side, only momentarily. To foals, one strangely shaped and the other’s face strangely familiarly marked, hovered close to the brightly masked woman. And another, a man as tall as himself, though not nearly as thickly built—but his attention does not linger long on glittering white man when there is a woman present.
White ears sweep forward to hear the end of her introduction, and to catch the man’s offer of a home without a herd? His own, masked face cocks slightly, intrigued with the notion—but no. He is here to offer the woman of interestingly thick locks and a coat as brightly hued as his own a home within the Edge. But, as his eyes sweep the gathering of equines once more, he is not hopeful as it seems these few had been gathered for some time. And, in the presences of fillies, even the bawdy and crude vulture curbs his normally risqué tongue," “Hello, I am Graasvoel. But call me Gaal,” his rough voice runs from his lips," “I, too, can offer you a home, but in the World’s Edge. It is far to the west, with sea cliffs that rival even a woman’s beauty,” his raptor eyes linger on the mare as he speaks, implying many things but outright saying none.
And then he falls silent.
vervloek bome = cursed trees
Though he realized his mistake of flying above the canopy as he couldn't actually see the newcomers beneath it." “Vervloek bome,“ the annoyance pushed out his dark lips, stark against his white face as red-ringed irises sharpened on the earth below, attempting to find a place to land between the branches. It took a long while, but finally he found a break in the leaves. It was small, for his gargantuan size, and thus a great crashing of limbs accompanied his descent.
Twigs and leaves snarled into his knotted mane and feathered legs, a few bright and glossy feathers were bent or left amid the canopy above him. But he had no eyes for what was above him, only what was before him: a woman.
She was masked, like many of the plateaus were masked. But she was wingless, and therefore not Korofi-born. Perhaps she is from a Korofi and Debwani coupling? It was unlikely that the timid Debwani would ever come close to the barbaric people of the plateaus… but he had seen (and done) stranger things during his time in the pleasure houses of Uumalah.
His attention skitters to the side, only momentarily. To foals, one strangely shaped and the other’s face strangely familiarly marked, hovered close to the brightly masked woman. And another, a man as tall as himself, though not nearly as thickly built—but his attention does not linger long on glittering white man when there is a woman present.
White ears sweep forward to hear the end of her introduction, and to catch the man’s offer of a home without a herd? His own, masked face cocks slightly, intrigued with the notion—but no. He is here to offer the woman of interestingly thick locks and a coat as brightly hued as his own a home within the Edge. But, as his eyes sweep the gathering of equines once more, he is not hopeful as it seems these few had been gathered for some time. And, in the presences of fillies, even the bawdy and crude vulture curbs his normally risqué tongue," “Hello, I am Graasvoel. But call me Gaal,” his rough voice runs from his lips," “I, too, can offer you a home, but in the World’s Edge. It is far to the west, with sea cliffs that rival even a woman’s beauty,” his raptor eyes linger on the mare as he speaks, implying many things but outright saying none.
And then he falls silent.
vervloek bome = cursed trees
HELLOOO he is crashing this thread, literally.
Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.
