Leif

He was wandering again, lost in the grandeur around him, but that was alright. Every day was a new adventure, a new path with an equally new destination as he soaked in as much knowledge as he could regarding this Helovia that he found himself in. Leif was no stranger to wandering, and this place was, perhaps, one of the most normal he had so far traipsed upon.

A beautiful landscape of dry, yellow-green grasses and lavender thistles danced in the wind, the slightest of breezes that brought very little reprieve from the harsh summer heat. The white stag could see a wide river, slow and lazy and perhaps a little low drift through the canvas of the land, but it was just as beautiful as everything else he had seen during his short time within this land. It was all so strange, so peculiar... Maybe there would be a time in the future where he was no longer struck by the beauty of this mysterious land, a time when he would be used to such grand semantics and surroundings... But a part of him never wanted that time to come.

For if one could not appreciate the natural beauty of the earth, then what could they appreciate?

With steadfast steps of cloven hooves, the ivory bull-Elk waded through the sea of yellow-green grasses and lavender thistles, the tall and brittle vegetation brushing against his robust alabaster sides. Perhaps he would be an oddly found creature, should anyone else be around on that warm evening, but Leif was beginning to realize that he was not the only odd creature in Helovia. This land held a litany of odd, taking that very word, shattering it, and re-defining it as it saw fit. Odd had become an every day occurence, different  becoming the every day norm, but for the white stag, who had been hunted and chased for his pelt and impressive rack... This was alright.

This was welcome.

With a lazy, jovial smile, the bull-Elk stopped his wandering before the side of the river bank and lowered his elegant head to take a drink, the cool waters refreshing on his tongue after a long day of wandering.

He would go home to the Aurora Basin soon... But for now, he had every intention on remaining here, within this meadow of thistles and brittle grasses. Idly Leif wondered what this place was called, and wished that either Elspeth or Rexanna had joined him on his venture, but surely they would be able to answer when he went home.

Home.

The word would never not serve to fill him with joy.

"Finally..."

the white stag