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The frigid air is brutal, biting cruelly though his thick pelt and freezing the skin beneath. Yet the stallion continued to stride over the glimmering sand, refusing to give in to the harsh demands of winter. Though he is new to the Throat, Lynx intends to prove his worth, patrolling through the desert when he is not busy attempting to bring home new recruits. Scanning the pale landscape, caramel eyes latch onto a small figure kneeling on the ground. Whoever it is, they are small and winged. A pegasus foal? The golden stag moves closer, having absolutely no intention of leaving the child alone in the icy weather. An adult, perhaps, but not a child.
Speechless, the only way he can herald his arrival is the snort he issues. Where are the colt’s parents? Has he stumbled across a parentless youth, seeking shelter with the Throat herd? Or did the little one simply get separated somehow? He supposes it doesn’t matter at the moment. What’s important is the fact a colt is freezing, and he is the only one around to help. He has always had a tender spot for children, offering them his friendship and assistance.
Lynx stops a few feet away though, giving the youth room rather than crowding close. He does not want to frighten the lad, after all, and having a disfigured stranger entering his personal space would definitely be startling at the least. So he waits for an invitation to come closer, keeping his head lowered in order to avoid seeming threatening.
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Fragility and Freezing Cold [Open, Adults?]
