No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
Their numbers were fewer than even he had expected, and it pained Hector enormously to see them sprinkled around the short Gladiator, like leaves on a cactus... a troubled murmur resonated beneath his fleshy breast as he turned to regard his bay sister with a reverential nod. Meg, the only one amongst all five who were present, a warrior he would gladly shed blood for on the battlefield – a wary eye roamed between the faces of the rest. Perhaps these foundations Ampere was trying to lay down would serve to unite them wholly; so that they might rise like blinding dawn to sway back their enemies. A long breath filled his lungs, and the stallion sighed broodingly.
He regarded the darker stallion in turn, meeting dark burgundy gaze sternly and stoically, and set the name Einarr, amid those worth remembering – Ampere, Dalibor... Bruce. Briefly his lips moved to note the arrival of Megaera by his wing.
As flaming eyes rose to meet the unusual golden eyes of the third mare approaching (who seemed more serpent than horse), the small figure of a foal had frolicked forward to position himself by the flank of their fine leader. An wry smile quirked slightly one corner of his mouth; the infant was that one whispered about, the cripple. Thoughts turned to the failed Sultana who sported damage that seemed similar – her resolve had been weak, and he imagined that the waif who bleated his ambitions now to the world, would find himself unfit to weather the life he expected.
Sinew stiffened as the Gladiator snapped viciously at her child, and one eye turned upon her; curious, calculating. Perhaps motherhood had not diluted her mindset after all. He watched with a rigid jaw line as the child was harried away from their line and dealt a stern lesson. Certainly the child who the giant harboured now would never act so rashly...
Amaris spoke soon after, nodding between the group, and like the ebony stallion before, Hector carefully trained her identity to the forefront of his mind.
When the Mother of The Cripple spoke again, confidence and clarity resonated through her being and her steadiness was enough to warrant closer notice. If they – this group of sworn Dragon warriors – were to defy any threat from the mainland, there would need to be unwavering respect, faith, and the tawny tribrid was prepared to commit himself to the duty.
A question was asked of them, and Meg’s tongue was swift to meet with an answer – the stallion was inclined to agree. "Strength and the ability to defend." He mentioned stubbornly and stanchly, a mind set to the task of war for too long. Thick and heavy however, he had no use for speed. His sister had spoken at length, impressively so, but Hector had no desire to follow suit. There was no need to fill the air with dribble when the true answer was so precise. Attentively, he nodded once to conclude.
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