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07-31-2012, 01:48 PM
I smiled at the newcomer, the general of Dragon’s Throat, and bowed my head in respect. My green eyes roamed over the black coats of the two stallions accompanying me near the lake, one tipped with gold, the other white. I was thrilled to meet new people, but I did miss my Tares, who was all I ever thought about. I dipped my head to Midas, in thanks for his condolences upon my condition and was grateful he wanted to continue speaking with me. I extended my wings from the clenched position at my sides and stress relieved instantly. I shook my black feathers feeling a slight breeze through my mane and coat due to the movement. I relished in it; under the unbearable hot sun, I would take what I could get. “It is an honor to be in your presence, Azzuen, and a great pleasure to meet you. Oh! My apologies. Should I address you as General? I do not quite know how to yet address authority figures. You are technically the first I have met, due to my lack of memory.” My velvety ears flicked back nervously, afraid I had made a mistake, eager to correct it. My withers tensed with the awkwardness in being in contact with others besides Tares, and my wings itched to fly to her comforting, soft voice and warm flaming wings. I was not used to this kind of interaction, and I trembled ever so slightly, my wings screaming to fly. I planted my hooves in the earth, ready to stay and fight my way through this conversation as if it was a battle, like the soldier I was supposed to be. I could not keeping running to Tares for protection whenever I was frightened. My legs locked and wings retracted again, I whinnied softly to the two stallions, indicating my pleasure at meeting them. They both seemed like accomplished soldiers and I was simply starting out. There was much for me to learn about being part of the Throat, especially in the fighting end of things. I figured they thought I was small, not a very impressive soldier, but I was swift in battle. I do not know how I knew this, but I was a fighter and my natural instinct was to defend myself and others. A sharp image of a large hoof attached to the end of a caramel-colored quarter horse leg as it rushed with violent intent towards a nose I recognized as my own flew into my mind. I shook my mane, disturbed by the image, remembering I should tell Tares about it when I saw her next. |
