No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
The other greeted Hector amiably enough as he neared, drawing to a halt with a respectable (masculine) space left between. He was not he chummy type, nor intimate or sensitive and was pleased for the most part to find a modest greeting returned – not one frothing with enamour or frustratingly fearful. In recent times, both personas had crossed his path at one point or another, and he found their need for conversation wearing; similarly too, the little lost children of the world. Isara had turned out to be quite the exception, even despite the awkwardness surrounding their beginning.
Enormous wingspan lowered again after civilities had been spread, and the tawny giant drew them near to sit flush against his sweaty barrel – turning only very briefly to realign the rogue feather that just refused to settle. When he returned his focus, blazing eyes drew a path around the smaller stallion’s frame, a soldier’s tendency whether intentional or not. It seemed anyway, that the dark-coated stranger had a similar inclination, so the silence that rose between them was barely an awkward one.
At first glance, the other seemed a suitable enough recruit (he had discerning taste after all). The most promising feature were the wings strapped to either side, and he had disregarded the apparent stiffness when the salutation seconds before had been executed – benefit of the doubt, he often had to remind himself. It was not his preference to carry the wounded and weak to bed in the oasis; he much preferred to enlist the strongest, both in body and mind, so that they might slip right into service, honouring the Sun. Their land’s patron was a proud creature, and Hector wished not to insult his expectations.
When the other spoke at last, the Dragon soldier had finished his assessment, and aside from the faint, feminine sparkle of blue throughout a sleek black hide, there seemed nothing overly remarkable to note. Ears swivelled in opposite directions and his fierce eye narrowed carefully upon his brazen company. "Nothing happened to it..." he informed blandly, trying considerably to mask the extent of his offence – between his flexing hocks, the tail in question was flicking disconcertedly, from side to side. His skull lowered, to the height of the other stallions, and fiery eyes peered jadedly around the sharp horn between.
"Hector..." he answered frankly, unmoved. "You are forgiven." Hector lifted his face back, and rocked his bulk left so that the right hoof to his rear might rest awhile. "I have travelled far from the south of this land, Dragon’s Throat, in search of bodies to join the Sun’s cause. What brings you to the Threshold of this country?" He was not primed for small talk, and though possibly his presentation was pretentious, he meant well enough. With growing interest, he fixed his eyed upon Telesaan and sighed profoundly.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
