.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
05-23-2016, 03:29 PM
Between two evils, always pick the one you have yet to try
Goddamn, he was sore. His travels, his spars, the beast was worn down. It didn't help that his massive size soaked up every ray of the sun the shined so vibrantly above him, it was just a rather miserable day for the chromed. Miseal decided to stay around the throat for a while, taking a break from Helovia and all it's wilds. After all, there was a meeting to be held, but there were members to recruit, things to be done, and all he wanted to do was relax. Perhaps see his family, oh how he missed them so. His heart clenched at the very thought of his paint splashed beauty and the child that bore his stripes and horns. The chromed was no emotional man, but his duty, his age, had changed him.
Taking slow, sluggish steps, he thinks as he walks the borders of the throat, his eyes closed as his ears listen for the sound of another. It was a rather boring job, but like all things, it had to be done. At least his mind was enough awake to entertain him with thoughts instead of counting the grains that his massive hooves displaced when he stepped forward. The sound of panting whispered into his ears, and the stallion rose his head from it's tired position to one that suggested none--the heat upon his skin drowning away as he glared across the sands. He could see two creatures, a dog of sorts and a ebonite man splattered with some sort of mess of markings and lines that he couldn't quite make out. Striding towards the bridge, the wingless used his key, flaming wings enveloping him as the magic of Gaucho's work and the Sun God deposited him to the side in which the stranger lain impatient.
Miseal could smell the edge on his skin, the home of his Anzaine. His brow raises as he nears the man. "What brings you here from the edge?" He asked, guard still on high, golden orbs looking expectantly at the man. "Miseal, pleasure." He says simply, visitors had become more frequent with the alliances, but the chromed wasn't a trustful person and this onyx colored stallion was no exception.
"Talk?"
