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07-31-2012, 05:58 PM
R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman. The plain, flame kissed pelt of Ricciardo stepped into the pale light of sunrise. The glare from the sun resided was he moved in closer, his orbs taking in the terra firma beyond him. A harsh breeze tossed his sea salt curled silks to and fro, as he investigated. To his left, a spring that bubbled with the sound of fresh, cool water was like music to his ears, whilst the frondescence and herbage was invitingly lush and healthy. In the far distance, the rumble of heavy water crashing against rocks caught his attention. Salt water! A shiver of satisfaction shook his fairly burly physique to the core as he was washed over with the memories of his homeland. With the hope of being within easy reach of the salt water and sands, he stepped into the territory further in the hope of coming across a friendly creature. All he desired was to be given the chance to be accepted into the herd that resided here. He had heard from d'Artagnan that it bore nothing but the likes of himself, horned equines. This suited Ricciardo, as the sorrel brute descended from such a herd, except they were all similar to himself - flames. Daggers itching for life, he scanned the scenery with his sand-coloured pools, searching. Deciding that it was safer to stay within the borders of the territory so as not to give the misapprehension he was intruding on the lands. "Someone must be here, anyone." He muttered quietly to himself, unaware of anyone watching the sir. |
