.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-29-2015, 02:41 AM
Tembovu
“Well I don't fucking know, I've never been here before you baffoon.” The King paused his grazing, dry grass sticking out of his lips as they curled in an amused, lopsided smile. The brazen and cheeky words from an obviously masculine voice piqued the Elephant’s interest. Thus far, sass had only come from his feminine acquaintances. Rohan, that handsome shaggy brute, had been quick to turn a joke. But never had outright insolence came from him. It did, however, come from this unknown man at the border— and the giant liked it.
Gradually, finishing his mouthful of grass, he raised his head and swiveled it toward the sound, dark blue eyes attempting to peer through the trees and mist. But it was useless, as yet another voice drifted through the murk— another voice he did not know. But it spoke with confidence and assurance. A small frown creased the black skin around his eyes— he had thought he knew all members of his herd by now.
Sweeping strides of ebony and ivory legs carrying him through the trees and mists, towards the unknown voices. And, abruptly, as the mist was wont to do, it parted, revealing the youthful winged mare, handsomely roaned stallion, and disgruntled bronze dragon. Equally abruptly, the large stud halted, brows raising at the eclectic collection of beings before him. (Would he ever learn to not be surprised in Helovia?)
Again, the amused smile turns up a corned of his thick, black lips as his gaze studies the trio. It lingers on the dragon, the black breath of the pegasus, and (irritatedly) on the remaining glass shards that he thought he had cleared seasons ago. The glass cleanup would be a never-ending project. Shaking his head, he returned his cobalt eyes to those gathered, low voice rumbling, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge. Can I help you?”
Gradually, finishing his mouthful of grass, he raised his head and swiveled it toward the sound, dark blue eyes attempting to peer through the trees and mist. But it was useless, as yet another voice drifted through the murk— another voice he did not know. But it spoke with confidence and assurance. A small frown creased the black skin around his eyes— he had thought he knew all members of his herd by now.
Sweeping strides of ebony and ivory legs carrying him through the trees and mists, towards the unknown voices. And, abruptly, as the mist was wont to do, it parted, revealing the youthful winged mare, handsomely roaned stallion, and disgruntled bronze dragon. Equally abruptly, the large stud halted, brows raising at the eclectic collection of beings before him. (Would he ever learn to not be surprised in Helovia?)
Again, the amused smile turns up a corned of his thick, black lips as his gaze studies the trio. It lingers on the dragon, the black breath of the pegasus, and (irritatedly) on the remaining glass shards that he thought he had cleared seasons ago. The glass cleanup would be a never-ending project. Shaking his head, he returned his cobalt eyes to those gathered, low voice rumbling, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge. Can I help you?”
@Argen
Please tag Tembovu.
