déodat,
Yet again the Blood Prince found himself returning to the forest of newcomers. The forest was significantly warmer in comparison to the cold northern mountains of the Basin. Déodat wasn’t a diplomat with warm words and eloquent poems, he was a soldier in every aspect of himself. The warrior could be cruel with his tongue and he was well aware of the reputation that developed around his hot temper and violent tongue. Unlike many though, he wasn’t blinded by his rage, he knew very well how to rein it in and how to unleash it’s full fury. Now would be one of the times to keep in check. Flipping his shit on a potential new recruit wouldn’t do him any good. Silently he hoped for a soldier, not one that flounced about uselessly. The lack of dedication displayed by his brothers and sisters in arms made his stomach churn with complete disgust. None of them deserved the titles of soldiers if they couldn’t even do the basics of work. What would happen if they went to war? Any enemy would be able to saunter into their borders, like that little tick that had welcomed himself into their land and proceeded to mock them. The whole lot of them were disappointing and they were lucky he wasn’t their superior. Yet, a smirk poked at the edge of his mouth. That very well could change with the upcoming tournament. Déodat wasn’t power hungry, but he wouldn’t mind stepping into power if it meant getting the complacent fools to finally work.
All of these thoughts of home became obsolete when a whinny broke the silence. Should it be a skyrat or hornless, perhaps he could bring back a present for Illynx or Deimos. Leaders could always use a slave. Then again, breaking the slave would take more time than it was worth, so he pushed that thought aside. If a Pegasus or equine was the fool calling he would ensure they would turn around and leave Helovia. At least then a different herd wouldn’t have anything to add to their own forces.
Slowly the Blood Prince approached the figure that had cried out. First he noted the horn upon her head, delightful. he studied the small mare and he for a moment found himself stumbling upon something that was beautiful, but useless. An easily broken butterfly would be of absolutely no use to him, nonetheless, they could always use more healers or spies. Unless this mare surprised him and proved her capability, Déodat doubted she was a warrior, not because of sex but because of stature. “Hello,” he said stepping out of the tree line toward the mare. “You called, and so I have come. I’m Déodat from the Aurora Basin. Welcome to Helovia” His tone still lacked that certain charm recruiters should have, at least it gave off the vibe that he meant business not polite conversation. “Should it interest you, I can show to my home. A land dominated solely by our kind.”
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