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Archibald moved through the forest, a massive shadow with his companion in tow, with precision and skill. He followed the voice that seemed t call out for him, for someone, for help. He did not frequent the threshold, that was true, for when he did he never seemed to bring home a prize. Today, however, he and Loretta had been hunting. When the voice called out, Archibald moved into action instantly, knowing that despite his dislike of recruiting, his herd was in desperate need of members. Breaking the treeline, the goliath and his companion stood before the conversing mares--one young, one older. Nodding to each of them in greeting, he let his voice fill in the gaps. "I am Archibald the Dauntless, Czar of the Hidden Falls. Should you seek a home and refuge in Helovia, the Falls opens its borders to you."
Even with his heavy-handed leadership history, opening his home so easily and so freely to strangers still made bile bubble in the back of his throat. Loretta felt the same, bitter taste on her tongue and sighed. Lowering to her haunches, the canine listened as Archibald waited for a reply from the female. She did not seem like a warrior; her body was too slight and frail. She could possibly excel as a healer, crafter, or sneak--all of which the Hidden Falls needed. Straightening his posture some (as if he could straighten himself any more, make himself any larger), Archibald awaited her reply with quiet, solid eyes. He was a vigil of strength before her, with his massive scarred body and his breastplate hanging heavy on his chest. His very being called for--no, demanded respect as he stood there, hooves pressing into the snow below him. ARCHIBALD the DAUNTLESS
Only the dead have seen the end of the war. |
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
please tag me
