Another day. Boringly hot. A solder stood near the edge of his clan’s territory. Golden orbs lingering on the green grass that lay just beyond; by greener he didn’t mean better, but merely greener. His homeland was an eyesore to most that bore gaze upon it, but not without a haunting beauty that only a dust born stallion or mare could see. An afternoon sun beat down without taking thought of how hot it must be for those that lingered below, sweat and desert dust lingered across his ebony—ivory flesh.

Even the heavy appendages that gave so much joy felt like a hindrance this day, spreading them forth he flapped weakly and nearly groaned when a welcoming breeze of hot air presented itself. Mind turned elsewhere with orbs glancing toward a cloudless heaven, squinting against the sun. Memories and thoughts took hold of a normally agile beast; he didn’t give notice toward a smallish equine that was steadily approaching until she was nearly upon his thighs.

Grunting hoarsely, his body rose in surprise with neck twisting down and flattened incisors widening past coal colored lips. Flight ridden limbs extended to full width and shadowed what lay below. Narrowed orbs darted to the little mare, her essence sprang forth between flared nostrils signaling that she was alone and without named herd. "I'm sorry," tinkling words lavished out, it sort of reminded him of exotic birds chirping, but he wouldn’t be one to point that out. "Did I startle you?" Limps pushed body forward gracelessly; landing with a small, ‘thud,’ using the word startle was a bit of an understatement.

He should have been more focused, "I'm Sunchaser.Just call me Sun." The little outsider didn’t appear to miss a beat. She rattled out a name and even inserted a nickname, with calming nerves still edging toward slightly elevated he rasped out dryly, “I am Midas, and this,” gesturing to a the huge span of nothingness, “Is Dragons Throat, your run has led you beyond the free land.” Wings took moment to fold neatly while he spoke and limbs settled themselves, “Though it is a pleasure to meet you,” vocals had finally found proper slot for reasoning with surprise falling toward a wayside, “I must insist that we travel back to the boarder,” it wasn’t his place to offer position in the clan without the permission of his betters. But if she sought then he might put forth effort to find them and allow their judgment to be placed.

Word count: 452
OOC: