No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
Fiery eyes, ablaze beneath the sun’s vivid hue, scouted tirelessly along the borderline of his homeland; hunting constantly for the lost, the ailing or the unwelcome, whoever should stumble blindly upon the parched soils of Dragon’s Throat. Between the generous span of is lavish, copper flecked wings, the soldier’s brawny frame rested comfortably and motionless, save for the tweaks and jerks of various directional shifts, should some sudden movement below have snared his vigilant gaze. His throat was tattooed in flame; vivid ginger licking upwards from his fleshy breast to jaw line, and any creature below with upcast eyes could easily have been forgiven for thinking the stallion engulfed by the blazing sun itself.
He had been patrolling for a good portion of the afternoon, having found little solace while idling the daylight hours away on foot. It was not in his faithful, dutiful nature to stand bound by the weight of stagnancy when responsibility plucked at his conscience. Always he sought purpose; to watch over his humble brethren; to serve both new Kings who had risen in his absence to fill the seat of the beloved Resolute (word carried fast through the army, swift was such gossip to fill his keen ears); and hold fast the boundary which now wore upon its collar the formidable shadow of a half-strong wall
As the cool shade of evening began to douse the tint of day, thirst began to rasp across his dry tongue with each lengthy breath drawn. He dipped left, inbound and the enormous shadow trailing below, swept soon over the trademark limestone waves where usually the herd was brought together to converse as one. The oasis shimmered in the distance, heat rippling its lush tones, and he made haste towards it with vigour and intent. In little time Hector was swooping lower through the mild dusk air, hooves reaching at last for the soundness of terrain and cushion of fertile loam. He had spent little time here since returning, duty called his mind and conviction his heart; though brave, insecurity had been woven into the strings of his guarded personality from the moment he could walk.
Striding ever deeper through whipping fronds and fanning palms, a sight pulled him to halt abruptly; enormous skull lifted conscientiously, perfectly proportioned ears cupped forward to receive the slightest ramblings of the other horse staggering; eyes glistening, narrowed and chary. "You there..." His voice bellowed without regard for those creatures settling to rest in the foliage surrounding. Two birds were startled from their roost, and fluttered away as the soldier’s long, strapping legs propelled him towards the now fallen Unicorn. He was yet to meet this character who lay bleeding upon the sand- few of the horned race had called the desert home when last Hector had rested within the clan, and he could not help the niggling suspicion borne from his warrior’s mind-set, as he approached.
"Why are you bleeding?" He asked firstly, expecting to establish this beast’s purpose- should it not have been to infest the herd’s water supply with bodily fluids. There was a civility to his tone; the cordial conduct displayed in accordance with the laws of this land- but still he loomed fiercely while the other was collapsed.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
