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07-07-2013, 11:02 PM
“Please, tell me of your homes.” I smiled gently and mused for a moment of how to paint an image that this fellow might be able to envision clearly—without murk. Surely the whole of Helovia knew I wasn’t the loveliest of painters. After a pause my baritone voice rose to answer his inquiring, “The Throat is a desert my friend, with vast sandstone caves and an endless horizon that seems to have no end. Thriving within the heart is a tropical Oasis which nourishes a vast variety of life. Further South, bordering our territory is the ocean.” Feeling as though my explanation had been brief and clean cut, I added with a lopsided grin that is rarely seen in proper company, “It is something that is best seen with eyes, rather than described by a poor story teller such as myself.” Really, it wouldn’t matter which way the stranger went; so as long as he knew that our home was always welcome to his and all kin. The Foothills was a fine place to take up residence in, Ktulu lived there with our lovely daughter…she hadn’t ever favored the heat that came with living in a dry wasteland, among other things. Some just aren’t built for a sandcastle life, others thrived in it. Just as there were those that didn’t favor becoming hired hooves; sharpened only for the tinkling of payment… Still—to each their own path. I didn’t judge Apollo or her for choosing their life, nor would I ever. They are family, and sometimes family doesn’t always agree with choices—but it’s still…family. |
![[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5388c9b80fe59)
