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05-28-2013, 12:27 PM
The palomino stallion had finally had enough with wandering alone in the wilds. He sought a herd, for it was an instinct present in all equines. After meeting three horses from the Dragon's Throat, he felt the place would be ideal for his tastes. Born and raised on endless plains surrounded by mountains, he had never heard of a warm and cozy desert with a vibrant oasis. Pheonix was accustomed to cold harsh weather, splintering winters with feet of snow, and cool summers, barely enough to heat the horses's hides and defrost the grass that they feasted upon.
Hoping he would find Iris or Africa, he ventured closer towards the borders of the place. He had heard of the venturing Assassins, and did not want to be caught in the midst of the thieving band, or be mistaken for one of those...skunks. Yes, that was the perfect word to describe them. Coming closer to the border, supposedly, he took a deep breath inhaling where the scent markers were. From previous herd experience, he knew that horses took borders seriously. Stopping dead where the smell was the strongest, he took four cautious steps back just in case he slightly crossed.
Lifting up his masculine head, he let out a whinny, calling for any horses nearby. Rustling his wings in anxiety, Pheonix was suddenly very nervous. What would the horses be like? Looming over his smaller figure, mocking him. Or be kind and friendly. He was like a new child arriving at a school, lonely and scared with no support. Anxiety was mocking him and taking over, and the golden stallion felt the need to flee, but he remained rooted. No turning back now.
Hoping he would find Iris or Africa, he ventured closer towards the borders of the place. He had heard of the venturing Assassins, and did not want to be caught in the midst of the thieving band, or be mistaken for one of those...skunks. Yes, that was the perfect word to describe them. Coming closer to the border, supposedly, he took a deep breath inhaling where the scent markers were. From previous herd experience, he knew that horses took borders seriously. Stopping dead where the smell was the strongest, he took four cautious steps back just in case he slightly crossed.
Lifting up his masculine head, he let out a whinny, calling for any horses nearby. Rustling his wings in anxiety, Pheonix was suddenly very nervous. What would the horses be like? Looming over his smaller figure, mocking him. Or be kind and friendly. He was like a new child arriving at a school, lonely and scared with no support. Anxiety was mocking him and taking over, and the golden stallion felt the need to flee, but he remained rooted. No turning back now.
