.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
08-06-2012, 06:31 AM
 ( woops, was waiting for d'Art to post again, but Imi told me to go ahead so. ^^ ) d'Artagnan's powerful, welcome voice rang out through the forest, and Mauja's ears flickered atop his poll. Blue eyes slipped open to the world as his mind clawed its way from the confines of sleep. The King drew in a deep breath, and gave his head a shake to clear some of the sluggishness from it. His Doctor had called? Or had that just been a dream? The birds were quiet, a murder of crows had taken, cackling, to the skies, so he guessed it hadn't been a remnant of a dream, but a real sound that had awakened him from his slumber. He blinked, yawned, tail flicking against his hocks. The first few steps he took were slow as he paused to stretch out each limb, forcing sleep from his body, but then he shook his head again and set off at a sure-footed trot. While he moved, gracefully flowing across the forest floor, he sampled the air, drawing the scents deep into his lungs. A stranger, indeed; and then the Moon Doctor himself, and his even-present shadow the Plague Nurse, Kou. Cineviam, and his distinctly sulfuric scent, was the third addition to the welcoming party. The stallion of cinders was often there when something happened. It pleased Mauja to know. He shook his head again, before snorting. He had no idea what was going on, and as he broke through the trees, he took in the scene with a single glance. Cineviam, d'Artagnan and Kou looked like they always did, and the air was relaxed, ears forward, attention focused upon a gray beast with a glass-encased horn. He was sturdy, of average height, but bulkier than the common warmblood. Good enough for the King. "You called, d'Artagnan?" he said in his smooth voice, expression teetering on the brink between neutrality and hesitant warmth. While his eyes alighted on the three herd members, however, they flashed with familiar warmth, silently thanking them for being diligent in their duties. Then, he turned his full attention to the stranger, not quite cold in his expression, simply - hesitant, not wanting to judge him before knowing. If his eyes would turn to chill or to warmth would be decided by d'Artagnan's words. night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com |
