A dusty grump

[OPEN] A dusty grump

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354

Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT

Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod

05-25-2016, 04:39 PM (This post was last modified: 05-25-2016, 04:41 PM by Torleik.)

Torleik

Birdsong was a beautiful season, true, but what about Tallsun? Here? In sandy, isolated hell? Torleik's mood had increasingly soured as they traveled towards the Dragon's Throat, his dark coat absorbing all of the sun Ophelia white one did not, sweat streaking his sides and foaming where his legs met his torso. This was miserable and he already hated it. He actually didn't know if he could handle this until whatever time Phi felt they could leave, dear gods. Where the Halcyon Flats had a dead, still warmth, this was...almost more cruel.

Since they were on a veritable beach, the air circulated and blew around them in gusts yet somehow never cooled him off. It was like being wrapped in a wet blanket under the noonday sun for him. Perhaps he was exaggerating but...Torleik was not built for this climate at all. He was snow and ice and harsh winters with warm, possibly sometimes hot summers - but the hottest parts never lasted for more than a short time and...there were rains...

Ophelia's voice broke his heat-coma and he glanced at her with a gaze that was probably sharper than he actually intended. "Says the woman with the white coat that does not absorb a single drop of heat," he returned. "Do you see me sweating? I am foaming, Phi. Foaming. I do this when I battle." He exhaled a heavy breath and thought that maybe he could survive this if he became an aquatic horse. If he could live in the water, he would remain cool. Right? Maybe? Still, he listened as his woman talked, telling him of a moment in her childhood and he savored the memory, trying to picture a tiny little Phi and Ktulu getting into mischief. It was impossible to see the woman next to him as anything but an adult. "Somehow I am not surprised you were an ill-behaved child," he teased lightly, trying to retain his sense of humor.

"I grew up on the coast; there was sand, but it was no beach. There was also a forest and mountains to our backs. I like the coast. This beach thing...I am not fond of, love. I admit I may attempt to sway our child, considering you are getting an unfair advantage in molding them by having the babe born in your preferred climate." Again, a bit of poking humor. Maybe if he joked through everything he'd live. He'd keep that strategy in mind. "We're almost there, and then we can rest, my love. I love you, too," he murmured, lipping at one of her soft ears.