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04-08-2014, 06:26 PM
I am someone to hate As was part of his new ‘job’ as a Dragon’s Throat Spear, Dalibor was required to make various patrols around Helovia. This, he could do. This made sense to him. The Endless Blue was not the area he had been assigned, but it was not an area that had been assigned to anyone – and he missed the water. The cool ocean breeze, the refreshing brine of the salty air, the fact that he coast low and let his hooves skim the water’s surface…this was a place he felt at peace. And such places were so very rare for the tormented warrior. However, on this day, the Endless Blue is not endlessly unoccupied like he’d hoped it would be. Was there going to be another pathetic thing with a glass horn smashed into her head? He prayed not. The occupant of the sandy beaches that he spotted today looked like the night sky had melted as the sun came up and a splotch of the dripping, velvety starred painting had splashed on a pegasus below. Interesting. And pretty. Descending, his mood calmer than usual today, Dalibor made his presence clearly known before he landed some distance in front of her. His approach was measured and efficient as always, his harsh face affixed with a curious expression. “You are far from home,” he stated, meaning the Dragon’s Throat, but aware his statement held a dual implication. “Few of our kind roam out this way. You should follow me back,” he suggested. Manners. Ah. Yes. Those things. “Ah, I am Dalibor. What is your name?” he asked, trying to be…polite. He was mildly interested in her name since she was pretty, but pretty usually meant vapid and useless. This one was not a fighter, he could tell that much already. Still, he supposed that a herd needed all kinds. She might have possessed other skills like that of an apothecary, or a weaver, or one who could commune with the gods – if said gods even really existed. Suddenly, a violent flashback consumed his mental eye and Dalibor took a rough, unstable step back, grunting. That pattern. On those feathers. On that pelt. He knew it from somewhere. The starkissed female. He did not know her name then, and knew it not now. But now he did want to know, and his yellow eyes burned with insatiable curiosity. Was she the same? Had she come from where he had come from? Escaped from that horrible place too? --------------------------------- OOC: They both spent time in Anrior, so I thought hey, this might be cool if Dalibor had seen her before or something. They could swap sad slave stories. lol. "talk talk talk" Thoughts  |
