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His last seasonal patrol had proved to be a monumental failure. The ones he was supposed to be patrolling with hadn't turned up, leaving him to try and pick up the slack alone. That was far from easy, and the leviathan had found himself heading back home with a great feeling of disappointment in the pit of his stomach. He is hoping that this season's patrolling partners will prove to be a lot more proactive than his last ones. He is fond of the labyrinthine forest that lurks in Helovia's eastern depths. In the shadowy green cathedrals, the leviathan can lose himself. He can become a boy again, king of the forest, lord of everything he touches. The snow-encrusted trees beckon to him, their arms open to him, easily absorbing his colossal size as he marauds through the sea of emerald and white. There's a glint of red and gold as his dragons soar alongside him, diving above and below the branches with agility their mammoth bonded can only dream of. They enjoy the forest too; there's a whole feast spread out below them, for them to pick through at their convenience. Volterra isn't quite sure what he's looking for during these patrols. Resources, he assumes - herbs and metals, things to keep and trade as the Throat sees fit. Perhaps he's looking for information too, telltale signals of other life in the depths of this forest, predators or prey that they should avoid or examine at their leisure. Whatever it is they're looking for, the leviathan only prays that he is not alone in his searching as he was last time. His heavy, powerful trot slows to an active walk as he slips between the trees, and he gives a series of whickers to call out for his fellow patrollers. I'M LIVING LIKE A LANDMINE WAITING TO EXPLODE I'M TICKING LIKE A TIME BOMB READY TO GO |
Dragon's Throat seasonal patrol for @Valdis , @Vastra , @Vinati !
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
