.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
08-28-2012, 12:11 PM
R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman. The bellowing words of his bleached king rang out and pierced his lobes like a knife. They were informational clear. Like the proud stature, alabaster and charcoal's voice was proud and authoritative, giving reassurance to the flame-kissed brute that the words was true. Talk of a wolf-like female roaming their lands was not a comfort to him and he certainly did not want to come into contact with it. There's too many other creatures of the Edge I must get to know first. But then the pause was over, and it was the other subject that Mauja spoke about - ranks. This was his chance! The talk of becoming an Emissarie was perfect for him. This meant he could escape the lands of the Edge and travel further out, inspecting the other herdlands with some sort of confidence that he wasn't going to get killed. At the words, Ricciardo picked up his flame crown, facing his sandy coloured orbs into his King's, waiting for a small hesitation from the other herd members that called out their verdicts and wishes on ranks. And then he spoke clearly and loud, perhaps with a tint of confidence that he knew this was his chance to go up in the ranks, "Mauja, my King, I would like to open myself for a position in the Emissarie ranks, if you see this fitting for me." With his posture static, he waited patiently for the monochrome mammoth to focus his attention on his smaller stature. |
