A shiver twitches his buckskin coat as she mentions the frost, “I suppose, if you like white. Lots of white,” he shrugs, grinning. Then he shakes his body forcefully, chuckling at himself, “I’m being a curmudgeon. Truly, the cliffs are breathtaking in all seasons. How could they not be?” His horn sweeps the vast expanse of the impressive drop. It was like nothing else in Helovia, unique to their herdlands, and inspiring. He sighed in appreciation of the simple beauty of nature.
He, too, watched the lone seagull as it flew and keened to the cloudless sky. “Yes, the Rift is a diseased realm that our gods salvaged some lands from. They are new regions in Helovia— though they were not easily gained. They gods of the Rift, a greedy and unjust lot, fought us tooth and nail,” he paused, the claw marks on his shoulder twitching as he recalled the tigress, “And the battles were costly…”
His voice trails quietly, the warm breezes playing with his words as they carried them away.
@Calista