We are the wind before the thunderstorm.

the Rift

[OPEN] We are the wind before the thunderstorm.

Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004

Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE

Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd

11-17-2013, 05:52 PM

Remember rights that I did wrong, so here I go.</style>

Gaucho had grown to like the heat.

When he had first arrived in Helovia, had first been ushered into the Throat by the bumbling Levi, he had nearly succumbed to the heat. It took long seasons of training, before his battle-ready body was acclimatized. Now, galloping along the sands or basking in the sun came second nature to the primitive dun. Indeed his companion, a gun-steel colored black mamba snake, was grateful that her bonded lived in a land where she could sun herself often. She was growing to be a warrior herself, and hated the sluggishness that the coldness of Frostfall always brought.

Today, the pair were off duty. Gaucho's morning patrol had already ended, relatively uneventfully. Yet the warrior was always ready - always assuming their racist neighbors to the North would try and make another pass at the Throat. He had been mildly surprised that there had been no retaliation against their actions but...perhaps that time would come. Gaucho's dark body glistened under the light of the sun, as a sheen of sweat gradually broke out on the darker points of his thighs, and wing joints. No matter how much perspiration or liquid touched his coat, the odd tribal markings that adorned his body never faded or smudged. They told a story that even the elements could not erase.

His antlered brow turned west, where an unfamiliar mare stood. His nostrils flared, greedily trying to sap her scent off the breeze, which caused the bone piercing his nostrils to dance slightly. In his antlers, Mara coiled herself, black beady gaze trying to place the winged mare among the roster of those who dwelled in the herd. Mentally, she shrugged. Alwayssssss new facesssss She mentally noted, as Gaucho began to moved in her direction. With long strides, the warrior drew near, stormy gaze confirming that he did not in fact, know her. Pegasi were of course welcome in the Throat, but as their sworn protector, the dun liked to know each face.

Halting a few strides away, his dark muzzle dipped slightly in greeting. Mara remained firmly skeptical, staying in his antlers, and tasting the breeze with her long tongue. "I Gaucho" He offered as a greeting. His voice was rich, though primitive sounding. Mara and a few others had been helping him with his speech, but it was slow and cumbersome. This was not his native tongue, and he found as he aged that retraining himself linguistically, was difficult. But if his herd wanted a leader who could not only protect them, but also chat with them...well...He would try.