Einarr watched the fire as the woman spoke, tail flicking over his war-hardened body to snap and destroy the pesky flies that bothered his hide. He was called to this fire, intrigued by its power and call. It was inherently magical, he knew, for nothing he had ever seen before burned as brightly as this. Not even dragon-fire. Inky ears tipped towards the puny bay to catch her words, and he turned his head towards her. Sun God. He had a Sun God. He had a Moon God. He had an Ocean God. He had a Mountain God. Were they the same, here, in Helovia? Did his lords look over this foreign land? Surely not--his khalasaar was the only one of favor in the god's eyes. "This shekh vojjor kind?" His god of sun was a tormentor at heart, prideful in his ways. Einarr's khal had gained favor with this vojjor, however, when he crawled away from his pyre unharmed by the flame. It impressed the lord, and so Einarr's family had been blessed greatly because of the triumph of their king.

Einarr moved to walk around the fire, inspecting it in greater detail. His wings pressed into his sides, as to not get licked by the burning flames. He needed his wings for battle and patrols, he would not let them come to harm from foolishness. "Who these seers? Warriors? They strong?" Einarr asked, having circled the fire completely to stand again facing the tiny warrior. There was a plain twist of confusion on his face, as he struggled with compartmentalizing the words she gave him as well as speaking his own words. He had been taught this language--Helovian--but he was not well-versed in it. No one where he came from was, and the slaves that taught them did not live long enough to teach them completely. They had been weak and had succumb to sickness. The only thing the language-teachers had been good for was fucking.

His eyes danced over Megaera's body some, taking in everything that she was. Even in her small size, there was beauty there. She was a warrior, and the fire in her heart and her eyes burned brightly. His mind trickled with thoughts of what he could do to her, mixing with the primal instinct of mating. Einarr wondered what the customs were of Helovian women. Did they so openly move their tails over to invite strong men in as the warriors--and slaves--of his home did? Or were they like the two slaves Einarr had finally overcome--wanting only the company and touch of other mares?


@[Megaera]