-- for @[Krieger]
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Even in the beginning of the warmers seasons there were still patches of snow to be seen on top of the world. That's what d'Artagnan liked about the Steppe; it's tenacity. It reminded him of the strength of unicorns, to endure even when cold death stared them in the face. They were like the tough tundra that weathered anything, the bleak side of the mountain with an eye always on the horizon. The shade had had a lot to think about recently as his own life had spun into a tirade of one bad thing after another. He'd lost his own desire and hidden away, rotting into a hollow shape of his former self. Time was now ticking against him, but the Doctor was not done with his part yet, not whilst there was still a healthy blood lust pumping through him. The land would know his shadow for longer and he was young enough to fight his own ends still, he had let the unfortunate events get the best of him and for that he was ashamed of himself.

It was night time and he shifted his bag with a grunt of annoyance, he'd gotten used to it over the months, but it still pissed him off now and then. Why had some stupid tree thought it was a good idea to strap it to him?! Did he look like a slave?! Ungrateful plant. d'Artagnan was slowly beginning to make use of it, however, and in his side pouch laid the amulet he was meaning to give to Mesec. Though the shade had not seen his demi-God son in some time and often he wondered how he was, the child he had hated for his deformity and loved because of blood. Mesec had been one giant curve ball in his life and tested his beliefs to the limit. In the end, the colt had gone off on his own and d'Artagnan had never spared his progeny enough time to ask why, so short was his temper.

The main pocket consisted of various poisons and the pocket on the front was the relevent antidote to each. d'Artagnan had spent a great deal of his life travelling to the places the Earth God had showed him that one time and the hard part came when he needed antidotes. There were many times when the shade had knocked himself out or gone delirious on some leaf and there was always that one time when he made Mauja eat Diviner's Sage and they had spent the night trying to walk through walls. d'Artagnan chuckled softly at that and thinking silently that he could do with another night like that. Let everything go.

Aramis soon returned from his hunt, his markings glowing a faint red indicating that whatever his bonded had eaten then he had fried it.

Krieger

Krieger had decided to to take a walk outside of his boundaries to clear his heading head. His twins had been born and he was sure that his pure-blood unicorn foal had been born, but he knew for everyone's sake he must stay away. He wanted to meet his new baby, but he was sure Delinne would throw a massive fit and ruin any chance he would have with the foal. Sighing heavily hating this new side of him he continued on. He wasn't sure what thought he was looking for, what he was really searching for in his mind, but he had to find it.

After a while a scent brushed his nostrils, another stud and something else too. Interested in what horse was so close to the basin he picked up a rolling trot. As he rounded a bend he saw the stallion, and recognized him. He couldn't recall his name, but he knew he was a prized member of the herd. He slowed and let out a soft call, but it was still like thunder. The Beast stopped within a few feet of the bay and his, dog thing. "Hello sir. I don't think we've been introduced properly, I am Krieger."

He dipped his dagger studded head low in respect. He might not know exactly who the stud was, but he could tell he was older. No matter how Krieger really felt about others he had been taught to respect others, especially old battle scared warriors. His assassin herd had done him right with these lessons. He turned his bright eye towards the dog thing and let his voice rumble forward again, "I hate to be rude, but who and what is your companion?" The Beast had never seen such a creature before, and despite everything he was curious.

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Words: 390
OOC: @[d'Artagnan]
"Talking" 'Thinking'

d'Artagnan swivelled to the thunder clap call of a rather large stallion coming towards him. The Nightshade recognized him on his unique appearance, white as snow branded in fierce looking red with a proud dark crown atop his head, but that was all as he tried desperately to search his brain for the name unto which he should be called by. In the end the brute spared him the breath of having to ask a name as he asked first and offered his own. Krieger! That was it, an odd name for an odd brother. Though it fit him really, the Nightshade thought. "Allô Krieger" he said first, his deep voice curling around a word commonly used in his birth land and thought it strange for a moment that his mind would think to choose that word. "I'm d'Artagnan. The Nightshade branded, but d'Art will do" he nodded in a pleasant manner for him, all unicorn brethren were treated grandly unless reason was given not to.

For once the shade didn't appear all that grumpy, it had been a while since another had shown him a bow of his head in simple respect and d'Artagnan rather liked the boy for his politeness, even if the Doctor lacked that sort of trait himself. It was nice to know that remnants of the old ways still existed, that a battle scarred stallion was still worth a noble dip of the head.

Though attentions were quickly turned upon Aramis, who was sat stoically by his side, watching the conversation unfold through his always glaring eyes. d'Artagnan was always interested as to how others would react to his hell born pup, many shivered, some were merely curious whilst others had been inspired to find one for themselves. He met Krieger's curiosity with answers, to educate him on the beautiful and dangerous breed that was Aramis. "He's called Aramis, a hound born of hell or Hellhound as they are more commonly known. He breathes fire and runs faster than lightening, handy to have in a tight spot" he nodded to his ever loyal guard who reservedly dipped his head at the introduction.

d'Artagnan directed his attention to the wintry brute then with his rumbling voice that the shade quite admired. If only he wasn't a brother then he might have decided to work out a way to replace this ones voice box with his own. Dangerous, thrilling work. Alas, the horn was the safe ticket. "You're quite something to look at, I wish I had that much muscle" imagine I could just sit on Illynx! "What made you choose to live with our herd in the cold north?" He asked, his rough voice simply curious, he looked rather dangerous after all. An asset indeed.

Krieger

His large ears twitched curiously as the stud spoke. Such an odd word strung an odd cord in his massive head, where had this male been before he had come to live here to speak in such a different vocabulary. Either way the Nightshade nodded his own respect, but not as much as the Beast would have liked. He would have the herd's deepest respect one day, even if it was in his death. His thunderous boom rolled easily from his lips, "It is a pleasure to meet you Sir." For some reason he didn't feel comfortable addressing the Nightshade by his name. He allowed his bright yellow eye to carefully take in his face so he could tie the the name to the face.

Krieger's mind moved once more to his twins as she sat watching the pair. He could not get his foals out of his mind now matter what he was doing. He had to see them again, but how was he supposed to get past the boundaries and their mother. 'They will seek me out when the time is right.' He watched the dog thing as his questions were answered. The Hellhound was named Aramis and he was watching him as much as he was watching it. A Hellhound that could breath fire and run quicker then the striking bolts. As the creature dipped his dome the Beast lowered his own, power like that was to be revered and respected as much as his bonded.

As d' Art spoke of his bulk the Beast basked in the praise, but spoke humbly. "It can be a burden if I'm chasing fast weak prey." His orb sparkled dangerously at the thought of killing another. Ears pricked at the question he was offered. He pondered on how to best answer, how to keep from seeming to power hungry, but to show his real potential. His voice thundered again, "I joined the Basin in search of a strong herd, a place to be proud of. I also wanted a place that my previous training would be of use, and..." He paused searching for a word, "cherished. I was raised by a band of assassins, hired to take out others swiftly and without notice." He raised his horned head watching carefully for d' Art's reaction.

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Words: 384 @[d'Artagnan]
"Talking" 'Thinking'