| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
The heat of the summer sun streaked down through the tangle of trees, spilling across his dark hide and dappling the greenish surface of the water. At first, he imagined the shadowed marsh might be a place where he could escape the heat of the season; the bitter truth was much the opposite. He lifted his wings from his sides slightly, attempting to allow the air to circulate against his sweat-soaked sides as he kept his gaze trained on the stranger. He wondered what had brought the stallion to the marsh, although it really wasn’t his concern. Perhaps he had been exploring as well, or maybe the marsh held a certain significance that had escaped the Pegasus, but this unicorn was aware of its secrets.
His eyes traced the translucent edges of the stranger’s two horns, his brow creasing slightly as he wondered how the broken horn had been damaged. His gaze flicked between the bay and the pup, admiring the strength of the bond that seemed to exist between them. They seemed to share thoughts and feelings with each other while he, the outsider, was oblivious to the activity of their collective minds. He noticed with peaked interest as the Hellhound’s markings began to glow, and he frowned in thought as he watched it. His study of the young pup did not last long, however, and he was distracted by the low voice of the stranger.
Lifting his gaze toward the bay, he watched as he turned from him to look away into the shadows. The Hellhound ran off behind his bonded, bounding along the path as if eager to be on his way. Murdock shifted uncomfortably in the heat, shaking his forelock from his eyes and inhaling the thick, sweet air. “My name is Murdock.” His reply was simple and to the point, his head dipping slightly as he held d’Artagnan’s gaze. Though the unicorn meant nothing to him, he would commit the stallion’s name to memory; the bay could have killed him, but instead he had let him go. Despite the simplicity of this, Murdock’s mind still struggled to make sense of it.
He took a few steps back, his hooves slipping in the moist earth as he backed into the cover of the bushes. His gaze remained fixed on the stallion, emerald eyes never leaving his face for a second. “I’ll be on my way, then,” he dipped his head slightly, unsure of how to go about his departure “pleasure meeting you.” His voice held the faintest hint of sarcasm, though he felt no prejudice toward the unicorn. It was not a personal matter but rather a larger idea that had compelled the bay to attack him, and he felt no reason to hold that against him. Of course, Murdock would have preferred not being attacked at all, but he would not hold it against d’Artagnan.
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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Image Credit
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