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12-25-2016, 02:34 PM
The dorobian serpent has been uncharacteristically quiet as of late, and like a good dorobian noble, he'd never truly kiss and tell his own motivations for laying low. Usually, he might have spun a daring, enthralling tale of debauchery, espionage and a sacrifice or two followed by waking up in the silken sheets of a Korofi noble — sadly all of those were in short supply, and he dared not change from his usual story note. If there was one thing present, it was wine. While it was no sweet dorobian vintage, nor the pale white nectar which came from the eastern plateaus, it did it's job in keeping the sleuth positively jovial through frostfall. All things considered, he'd been zapped by a god and found himself having a rather sinister if not totally him plan. He was allowed wine. He's not quite sure why he'd left the comfort of his little cave, Matanye certainly echoed the disgruntled opinion of moving in the cold. He'd never liked the chill nor the snow, the dreadful white stuff belonged anywhere but where he laid his head. Sure, the tales of wild northerners with their rugged beards and thick accent allured him the way one might oogle the most handsome stallion at the gathering, in the end you knew better. You knew that your charming fantasy of being roughed up and loved down was just that. Snow was a darling concept, a romantics vision — the reality was it was cold wet slush and hidden pitfalls. Kiuaji's companion is the first to spot the smaller mare, her vibrant plumage cutting a striking figure against the winterscape. 'New comer in snow.' her silken voice prodded at his mind, not so gentle claws that pulled him from his internal monologue. 'looks tired.' Her comment drew a hummed sigh from the spy and finally, after trotting a terrible trot with exaggerated steps he broke into a true one. "My dear, you are going to catch your death out here." His chords are the first to greet her as he finally found her, Matanye's large frame perched in a nearby tree. A beacon for him to follow. He's sure if it was birdsong or tallsun he might have spared her the usual introduction, shaken her hoof and handed her the helovian equivalent of a welcome brochure. Unfortunately it's frostfall, and he's freezing his skinny ass off. There will be no welcome party from the serpent this day, though if others happened upon them, they were welcome to pick up his slack. "Come, let us find you some shelter and warmth, before both of us perish." "talk talk talk" Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
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"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"
force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
with the exception of maiming and death.
