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Archibald Loretta We are the ones who will never be broken With our final breath We’ll fight to the death We are soldiers, we are soldiers  Everything in Helovia had changed since the population emerged from the underground. The W.A.R effort was lost to his mind, for he only cared about finding protection for the most important things in his life: his mare and his children. They had been exploring collectively, as was Archibald. On their trek to the Heavenly Fields Loretta took a run through the world they used to know. The Windtossed Foothills was completely changed. Now, instead of the glorious mountain and forest paths there was a system of raging waterfalls and channels. The bonded pair decided that it was no longer the place that tethered their past to them, and they would not return. The Dragon's Throat was not an option, the heat too unbearable and Gaucho was their lead. Archibald would not take orders from the box of rocks that he was--Archibald was superior in every way and would not stumble before the winged idiot just because he fell at the hooves of the fucking Sun god. The anger still burned deep in his chest for the golden tribrid that burned his home so long ago. Likewise, the Basin only allowed unicorns, and Archibald detested their stale, wintery attitude.
And so, here they were, the Dauntless and his bitch, standing at the broken, shattered remnants of the wall he had bypassed just within the year. He remembered coming here, stalking through the mist and the forest to battle it out with the silver grullo, Lace. Loretta's mind danced momentarily with the memory of Fajira and how she scrambled in the iron grip of her jaws. Scowling, Archibald squashed the imagery in his bonded's mind. Loretta's ears lowered and she sat down, setting her amber eyes away from the kingly stallion. Archibald took a step over a large chunk of blue-white glass and bellowed out a thick, wild call for the lead of this land.
The mist was familiar, the same image that he remembered as he and his warriors brought Donovan's dead body back to the Foothills. The sun was just rising, the early morning painted in soft purples and oranges, the chilly night of Birdsong would soon become the hot, weary day that had been evident the past few weeks. Sighing, Archibald waited, him and his companion completely silent. They were, however, aware of their surroundings, ready to react to any attack or approach. |
@[Kaj] @[Kahlua]
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
please tag me
