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He had been rooting through the snow, lips nearly frozen as he sought an afternoon snack— but his head flew up at the sound a familiar bugle rolling through the Edge. He cannot help the grin that crosses his muzzle— part relieved and part delighted— to hear the call of Nyx. She had been gone for much of Frostfall; had had been worried that the General might not return…
But those worries and been inconsequential because, as the sound announced, the iron warrior had come back. A ground-shaking canter brought the Elephant swiftly and loudly to the source of the call, occasionally breaking to a trot to maneuver his thick bulk between particularly dense trunks.
But his steps falter, canter breaking to a jog, and then a slow walk. Navy eyes first sweep the athletic, grey body of Nyx— she was whole and uninjured. Flared nostrils caught many scents, an olfactory confirmation of her travels, but they did not scent blood or injury. Then his gaze fell to the two foals at her side. His brows were raised, silently questioning Nyx, even as his head dropped to the filly’s level on his approach.
His nostrils flare, taking in the smell of the two little ones. They smelled like the General; because they had travelled together? Neither of the fillies truly looked like the woman— not as d’Arcy and Libertad had. Those twins had clearly belonged to the ironheart. He huffed a greeting to the foals, before raising his head and reaching out his muzzle to the General in welcoming.
Despite the confused curiosity that splintered his eyes, there was still warm relief that covered his face at seeing the woman again. “Nyx, I am glad you are home,” his low voice rumbled with sincerity, “But I send you to find a fierce warrior and you come back with fillies? They are a bit small to be soldiers.” His head cocked slightly as the edges of his thick lips turn up in amusement.
His sights drop back down to the foals. One already has a companion nestled on her thin withers, vivd scars on her face causing a shadow to pass through his. He continues his inespection, looking over the smaller filly that clung to Nyx’s knee. Again, at the familiarity, his brows raise further. “Hello little ones, I am Tembovu. Do you want a healer for those scars?” Though the wound was healed, perhaps a Moon Doctor could heal away the scars. His eyes raised to Nyx, “Do they need a wet-mare?” The question was a carefully curious.
He felt a tug through his bond as the lumbering, shuffling run of Mbwene finally brought her into the clearing. Though, at seeing the silver warrior, she trumpeted in irritation, ears flapping as her eyes swept for the ferocious white lion. She halted at Tembovu’s forelegs, curiosity piquing as she swayed her trunk in greeting towards the fillies.
But those worries and been inconsequential because, as the sound announced, the iron warrior had come back. A ground-shaking canter brought the Elephant swiftly and loudly to the source of the call, occasionally breaking to a trot to maneuver his thick bulk between particularly dense trunks.
But his steps falter, canter breaking to a jog, and then a slow walk. Navy eyes first sweep the athletic, grey body of Nyx— she was whole and uninjured. Flared nostrils caught many scents, an olfactory confirmation of her travels, but they did not scent blood or injury. Then his gaze fell to the two foals at her side. His brows were raised, silently questioning Nyx, even as his head dropped to the filly’s level on his approach.
His nostrils flare, taking in the smell of the two little ones. They smelled like the General; because they had travelled together? Neither of the fillies truly looked like the woman— not as d’Arcy and Libertad had. Those twins had clearly belonged to the ironheart. He huffed a greeting to the foals, before raising his head and reaching out his muzzle to the General in welcoming.
Despite the confused curiosity that splintered his eyes, there was still warm relief that covered his face at seeing the woman again. “Nyx, I am glad you are home,” his low voice rumbled with sincerity, “But I send you to find a fierce warrior and you come back with fillies? They are a bit small to be soldiers.” His head cocked slightly as the edges of his thick lips turn up in amusement.
His sights drop back down to the foals. One already has a companion nestled on her thin withers, vivd scars on her face causing a shadow to pass through his. He continues his inespection, looking over the smaller filly that clung to Nyx’s knee. Again, at the familiarity, his brows raise further. “Hello little ones, I am Tembovu. Do you want a healer for those scars?” Though the wound was healed, perhaps a Moon Doctor could heal away the scars. His eyes raised to Nyx, “Do they need a wet-mare?” The question was a carefully curious.
He felt a tug through his bond as the lumbering, shuffling run of Mbwene finally brought her into the clearing. Though, at seeing the silver warrior, she trumpeted in irritation, ears flapping as her eyes swept for the ferocious white lion. She halted at Tembovu’s forelegs, curiosity piquing as she swayed her trunk in greeting towards the fillies.
Tembovu
the Elephant King
@Nyx
Please tag Tembovu.
