His large hooves thumped steadily as he moved towards the west. He had overheard a few horses along is way in this land, Helovia, speaking of blood thirsty unicorns towards the mountains. He kept his head and ears high searching for any signs of life. The air was much cooler here and the closer he got to the mountains the colder it became, and he loved it. The sweltering heat that had plagued the woods he had been in at the threshold had just about done him in. He sneered inwardly as he thought of the overly kind and mouthy one winged mare he had met. He snorted his displeasure and took in the frost covered ground.

The light layer of ice was slowly thickening to a very light layer of snow. As he pushed on at a smooth rocking horse like canter he took a deep breath in hailing the scents around him. The crisp clean smell of cold left a pleasant taste on his tongue and his sunflower yellow left eye peered around him. He was careful no matter what he was doing, to keep his long forelock carefully over his useless staring right eye. Oh how the massive white stallion hated his weakness; the only one he posed in his opinion.

If you were looking down on him from the sky, or mountain you would have seen a monstrous white draft breed moving swiftly over the cold earth, long scarlet mane flowing around him, while his short crimson tail kept close to his thick set rump. You could also spy the red wrapping around his body and just think it to be red lines, but upon closer inspection you would notice that the red is actually barbed wire markings. If you were on his left you would see a bright flash of red striking at the air, the red tribal tattoo there makes it look as if he is wearing a sleeve.

Suddenly the scents around him made a subtle change most untrained horses would miss, but not Krieger. He threw on the breaks allowing his hulking body to skid to a halt rear legs tucked slightly under him, his short back and heavy muscling making it next to impossible to fully tuck under himself. He lifted his head and ears gazing around calmly his keen eyes searching for movement. He let his avalanche like voice rumble past his lips, ”I am here seeking a home.” His statement was simple enough, short and to the point, much like his bloody pass time. He stood waiting for someone to appear, head high his glistening sharped Kudo horn held proudly above him.

Walking "Talking"’Thoughts’
Words: 443

Krieger

Krieger stood still head raised his sharpened curling horn towering over his large white head. He took in the scenery around him. His thickening pelt definitely keeping him warmer. After rolling his massive shoulder, always prepared to fight he spotted another unicorn, a stallion, making his way down the hill towards him. Krieger never smiled or made any hint at how he was feeling besides shifting his weight firmly onto all four hooves. Flipping his head slightly to cover his blind right eye with the thick curtain of his blood red mane he gazed at the approaching stallion carefully taking in his smaller stature and heavy muscles. As the bay unicorn drew slowly closer, Krieger stood calmly watching. He saw the stallion’s eyes roving over his own body. This didn’t bother him at all though, he was used to others gawking at him, his size ensured attention.

The voice that escaped the bay’s throat didn’t really seem to fit him, in the porcelain horse’s opinion. ‘What would I offer them?’ He thought a smile devious smile creeping over his face. His rumbling voice swam towards the stallion, “If the rumors I have heard about the heard here are true, I have perfect skills for you.” He paused watching him letting him think. His continued, “I am a trained fighter, and better yet, killer.” His smile turned from devious to evil his bright yellow eye flashing brightly. He might have been a professional executioner, but he would never attack his heard members, unless the leader ordered it.

He usually refrained from being proper, but as the stallion spoke he dipped his head respectfully. ‘A corporal huh? Sounds like I hit the jack pot.’ As he lifted his head once again careful to keep his prized possession well away from Descaro not wanting to seem disrespectful or to dangerous. Something in his soul wanted to join this heard. His avalanche voice stroked the cold air again, “Pleasure sir, I am Krieger.” The politeness he was expelling almost made him sick, this was not him, unless you had earned the massive stallion’s respect ,or he wanted something from you.

Walking "Talking"’Thoughts’
Words: 365 @[Descaro]

Krieger

She had watched quietly from a distance the exchanging of words between the two men, the first to arrive into the Basin unknown to her but suitable enough to be seen so brazenly on their doorstep, while the second was a much more simply designed and familiar male she had come to know as Descaro. The bay was a corporal she had once served Psyche and Mauja alongside, and the sight of him was slightly nostalgic – but also pleasant. He reminded her of a time when she did not have to watch so heavily upon their doorway, when dreams had bright, shining outlines and weren’t crumpled and rusting on the floor of the valley. He reminded her of a time in which life had been simpler; she only had commands to follow, not ones to give, and she did not have to preside over the patrons of the mountain as she was now doing.

Or, in the case of the red and white beast, watching those who didn’t truly have the rights to venture so far into their hidden haven; while he has made his intensions clear upon arrival, the woman still watches him with narrowed and suspicious eyes, though she cannot properly hear all that is being spoken through the distance and the covering of dark conifers that shield her from their vision.

Descaro is his usual self; he does not arrive with tension writ across his build or in his face, though she is relatively sure that he is prepared for action should the stranger have other intentions. All of the unicorns of the mountain were this way, truly, at least in their preparedness for danger – perhaps some jumped the gun too early, but it was only to be expected among those with hearts as ambitious as their own. She catches something about usefulness, and her smile broadens.

Perhaps not all of us are fools, she muses, grinning softly at the corporal from a distance as she watches the two converse. Most of her smile, however, is reserved for the ludicrous difference in size between the two men.

The great red giant and the little bay, and she decides that she has lingered long enough in observation of the scene as Krieger opens his name into the air. Filing it away for use, she slips in gracefully alongside Descaro as the corporal formulates his replies for the behemoth – whose large frame is currently under heavy scrutiny by the Lady of the place, who is equally as dwarfed by his bulk as the soldier alongside her.

She wants to laugh at the sheer humor in it all, but refrains; instead, her mouth is a perfectly jovial grin, her eyes burning with the laughter she holds on her palate. "We have friends?" she jests with an airy giggle, nodding a brief greeting to Descaro and Krieger in turn before she introduces herself. "I am the Lady Illynx."

She gives a sly glance to the corporal before continuing on with her barrage of words (how she adores the sound of her own voice). "Descaro is right. We have no room for bunnies on this mountain."


[ OOC: Lol I made a punny. :x ]

There was a river once,
with many round stones
enchanted by shallow hopes
of embracing the ocean;
water is peculiar this way,
how its life is a line
that cannot bend or change
without the approval of its bed.