Still, he pushes through the throb of fatigued muscles and manages to hide the weariness of travel well, only manifested by the silence that accompanies most of their journey, different from the stallion’s usual well-expressed opinions. He is content to simply follow Thor, settling into their sweeping pace and taking in the new sights and smells with eager senses.

When the shaggy bay finally slows his stride, the antlered stallion is not far behind, slackening his gait smoothly to come to the other’s shoulder.

“This is it—the World’s Edge.”

Pricking his ears, Rohan raises his head as his bright eyes gaze towards the shadows that rise from the foggy horizon. He remains quiet while they draw near, more interested in discovering what kind of home could await him than making petty conversation. The sun is set low, but its glistening rays still offer enough light to see comfortably, catching the vibrant hues of red, orange, and yellow that paint the boughs overhead. The mists that blurred the horizon hang gently in the air around him, coiling into circles around his legs as he cuts through it.

Even through the light haze, a jagged splinter mirrors dusk’s light in a glittering line, capturing the stallion’s attention. Lowering his nose, Rohan investigates what seems to be the glass remains of…some sort of structure. Snorting to himself, he casts a questioning glance to his host. “Someone didn’t like the décor, then?” He muses dryly, raising one side of his brow in curiosity before he steps over the shattered remains, careful to not snare his skin on the jagged edges.

“Perhaps someday, Thor,” he continues, more to entertain the bay than anything, “I do hope your World’s Edge doesn’t disappoint.” The antlered stallion says this plainly as he brings his green eyes back to the draft, his neutral tone contradicting the frankness of his words. Despite having abandoned the likes of a charming lady in favor of her less-than-enchanting counterpart, Rohan has every intention in giving World’s Edge a proper chance. After all, the North surely can’t hold all of the pretty faces of Helovia. Flicking his tail, the Warlander glances around. “How long have you called this home?”


notes; I wasn't sure if I should tag Torleik and Mauja =X
tag; @[Thor], @[Torleik], & @[Mauja]
“Speech.”