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11-10-2014, 02:59 PM
Well at least it was warmer here. Shaking the gold shivers against a cool breeze that attempts to taunt him to otherwise. Taking the southern path down to Throat the gold had hoped to avoid the bare cold meadows. Once more he hoped to think more about whatever was beginning to happening to him without having another freak moment. The flies still sounded about his ears much to the golden’s annoyance. What’s worse the dryness on his top lip, top of his mouth, and tenderness in his hooves had progressed for full blisters. It was worse than the flies, for if the golden was going to die, go damnit he wanted to look good doing it. Thankfully the only ones visible on his lips were still just small bumps. Shaking his head for the thousandth time the golden echoes a long sigh. Inhaling deeply, there comes along with the cold air several curious scents.
First were numerous other creatures who were gathering ahead, but second, and even more curious was that old familiar scent of bitter crimson. Harks pin back and the gold slows his trot to but a slow walk. Horses were quickly coming and going ahead, but there was one thing lying still upon the floor of the forest, and it most certainly was not moving. Shaking about the flies again, the gold waits for a moment in the shadows till a space is made for him. Finding an opening the gold slips in to see the damage the fallen has taken. Something most certainly was not right about this though. Was this the fate that awaited this golden with his fly tortured mind? God he hoped not, this dead creature looked terrible.
Spanish head delicately lowers and sniffs about the fallen creature. The poor equine had certainly put up a fight, but most certainly had lost. Her scent ever so faint, and he could find nothing but just catch a jungle and clear water. The falls. Maybe of those crazies had finally turned on each other? The gold wanted to laugh at the notion of a mad tea party gone wrong, but even he knew this was not the place. Still as he looked over the girl’s wounds a curious feature was found. They were rough, and jagged, and laced like powdered sugar, with sand. Earth eyes become clouded with thought as the gold lifts his head back and away. Death, the gold was finding out, was common in Helovia, but this was darker. A growl lifts the gold’s lips as once again his shakes his head trying as he might to get the flies away, pissed off at the interrupting yet another thought. Snorting with finality the gold slips away from the group and continues on his path. This world of theirs was getting darker and stranger, dying or not, the gold began to recognize the need for allies with strengths different than his own. As he moved through the forest to the Throat the gold pondered a little side trip to the floating isle to see if he just might find some of them.
OOC::
Team Indignant
@[Zikar-Sin]
@[D'Artagan]
@[Deimos]
Thranduil
"speech"
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
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