.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
02-07-2016, 11:20 AM
 |
Even as she balked away from him, Einarr's stoic face gave no impression of an emotional response. He just stood before her, large and intimidating, listening to her words. She had shied away at first, her companion ready to throw acid on the warden, but her fierceness came through as she spoke of how the Dragon's Throat was her home. "If true member of Throat once, you understand respect. You not show it. You fly right into the lands, do not wait across the waters for invitation or acceptance. You confident we want you back?" He asked her finally, not to be rude but in an attempt to cause her to truly begin to think through her actions. If she had respected their borders and stayed on the other side of the water, Einarr would have greeted her much more kindly. She, however, had the audacity to come into the lands. While it was not that far into the heart of the territory, and it appeared that she was waiting for someone, it was still enough of a curious move to raise caution within the primitive beast. The spotted mare went on to weave a tail, and Einarr's brows knit together as she spoke. She finished her story with announcing him grumpy. The stallion snorted, a cloven hoof digging into the moist sands. His children called him grumpy when he made them awaken early and accompany him on patrols, especially Mordecai. The word had escaped her mouth more as a youngling than her siblings, but Einarr knew her to be more stouthearted than the twins--or, more fiery of mouth. The twins kept their tongues tied quite often, out of reverence or misunderstanding was usually unsure, but the warden liked to believe it was out of reverence. "I allow you to come back to Dragon's Throat. You left before--that mean you must prove yourself worthy to stay. What rank you want to serve?" He asked shortly, tail lashing some behind him as his patience grew thinner and thinner with this woman and her tapestry of tales. @Rei einarr
bright lights swing across the road but no one seems to know just where I’ll put my feet down next brown eyes, come with me tonight you could be my Bonnie and I will be your Clyde |
if you bury me, i'll bury you
pixel by sourful
