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No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
The sunray stallion held his tongue appropriately. While Hector was no Lord to be dealing out consequences- both the positive and negative, in life; he knew that favour attained through the ranks and by colleagues was a fine thing to come by. After failing so miserably to appease the eyes of his dignified family, the orange giant had fallen upon Helovia, and into the encouraging arms of this clan; of Kri, the Resolute. A quietly appreciative snort passed through large flaccid nostrils as orange-gold eyes fell again to cradle Pheonix for the slightest of seconds.
When Morana spoke at last, her voice slithered into the dull moaning air and Hector felt drawn to its smooth, eloquent design. Not many who had spoken with him recently were gifted with such a graceful tongue (such appeal) - and certainly it was a gift upon his engrossed ears. The name did not sour his thoughts; she was fresh blood indeed across these shores, those which he had traversed many, many occasions now. As his rust-red lips curled to reflect the warmth offered by her lovely splashed white, pink-tinged mouth, softening eyes began to loosen their concern. A giddy fool this warrior was not; but there was some manipulative attraction lurking behind those ethereal blue eyes which he just could not resist.
He drank the frankness of the painted mare’s introduction easily; not for one moment thinking to question more about her, or the past which had delivered her into Helovia’s weakened embrace. Certainly the mildness of her manner, the serene flow of her words... the stylish switch of her well fleshed hips... the grace and poise of her smaller, feminine frame; she was innocently looking for that place to rest he presumed arrogantly and gushed discreetly when she pulled from him to glance away down the corridor. As a charge of testosterone laced adrenaline surged through his enormous labyrinth of veins, the tri-bred’s sleek coat rippled fondly.
Hector had not always been such an aloof, sober personality.
"Wraiths." The soldier answered sternly, thrust from yearning by the thought of that prevalent danger above their heads and his slackened composure stiffened appropriately. This time his gravity was not swayed by the touch of her expressive lips. "Many have been taken by the darkness. Those undead souls now hunger after the living." It was a terrible thing and much of Hector and Pheonix’s kin had been stolen and transformed into all manner of revolting... forms.
No herd had been spared the wrath of this disease; not those fortified by enchanted walls, nor those guarded by the finest army in the land. Everyone had gathered like mulling cattle to hide down here in the cave. "Many of our kin... with flight..." he clarified quickly, narrow eyes surveying the crude nakedness of her shoulders, "...have watched those foolish enough to remain, be taken. A resistance has been formed, though still we are at a loss to explain such absurdity."
Hector drew a long breath and held it quietly; a reserved glance was laid upon Pheonix then, should the flaxen maned stallion have anything further to contribute.
[ooc: Candy- I hope you don’t mind me elaborating on her voice/speech; if my interpretation of anything is wrong, please let me know- she just oozes ‘seductress’ though]
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• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
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[O] Those oblivious, and those who just don't care [Morana, Open]
