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11-14-2014, 02:55 PM
 midas They didn’t seem to mind my presence in the conversation, “Aye, merrier” I uttered softly to the golden colored female who’d been the first to welcome me into their mist. Yon larger lass was watching me and offering a kind smile to which I returned with gentle ease, “Well met,” I whispered to her while attempting to catch those gentle eyes. The dragon male regarded me politely with a nod, I turned to him and offered the same gesture with chin tucked to sharply press down into the gem below my breast. With formalities finally drawing to a close we are treated to listen as yon dragon folk spoke up, giving a name that I didn’t recognize. Yar, I thought, another newblood in their ranks. How long before I no longer knew anyone from the desert of my birth. It was well known that the Throat often harbored wanderers who only stayed within that family for a season or two before their gypsy hearts demanded a change of location. “Yar, he speaks true,” I nodded agreeably at the fellow and offered him another beam, “Dragon’s Throat has a favorable climate for those that despise the cold.” Glancing toward the homeless ones I add, “My name is Midas,” it wasn’t a mistake to leave out my title, nar, the name was hardly of use out in these wild lands, “of Hidden Falls.” “A place that would surely welcome a visit should ye all ever desire such,” the offer was made toward all present. |
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