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10-12-2012, 09:40 PM
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L E A N D E R White rimmed eyes watched in usual patience as the doe considered his offer. He'd made the same invitation many times, and the words had always flowed with easy sureness. For the Throat was a strong herd, lead by a good leader, one who did not take the title of Queen or monarch. His admiration for Kri had grown immensely, even when he himself had once been just a skeptical newcomer. There was no doubt in his mind that the herd he had chosen was right. Unfortunately, though understandably, dark Insanity spoke with her own doubts. "The title has nothing to do with the herd, only the place. It is a historical name, given by events that took place on the land eons ago. The Throat has a large lake in it's core, surrounded by lush grasses and foliage. Portions are sand, and to the far reaches lies the sea." With a bright expression, he did his best to explain the geography. A rude interruption in the form of a ruddy hued boy and a dog soon sauntered in. A scampy young thing compared to himself at least, both in appearance and speech, it seemed. Lately, the Threshold had been filled with recruiters from other herds, their blatant hunger for new members almost reeking from their smutty hides. It was sad to see the other groups stoop so low to grab at newcomers to feebly badmouth their neighboring herds. Leander made a mental note of this little more than a colt's herd; the Windtossed Foothills. Something told him the dunskin did not hold much status there, even with the easily gained title of warrior. His usually warm expression hardened, locked on the young stallion that was gawking over the onyx mare. "Ah, I take it you have never been to the Dragon's Throat then, young Ricochet. For I was just explaining to this fine lady that it's centerpiece is a large body of water. Not typically something you'd find in a desert." After giving some smirking enlightenment to the tanned boy, he continued with focus back on the polite maiden. "Titles and descriptions can be very deceiving as I'm sure you know, my lady. Both Ricochet and I could tell you pleasant things about our own herds for hours. You are welcome to come visit the Dragon's Throat and judge it's worth for yourself, even if you do not wish to join our herd. Our values are of unity and justice; we do not force anyone to be stuck in the Throat, nor do we attempt to belittle our neighboring groups. I merely extend an offer to newcomers who seek a place to find loyalty and family." Golden eyes burned with righteous conviction, his whole 17.3 hand mass radiating cool validity. No matter what the mare did now, he could be confident in the fact that his own home was good enough to be joined without dirt talking anyone else's. The Throat was strong, and he knew it well.  |
