R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman.

Scouring back through Helovia was a tedious business for the Sandman. It was something that he was torn between - he loved and loathed it. But for all this, here he was again, searching through. All the memories reminiscing of times that were not that long ago, but felt like an age away. As he took in the scenery, it all flooded back. He remembered how the heat of Tallsun danced rays of light onto the frondescence of the Threshold, the way the cool breeze was welcomed in blusters as it sang through the trees, the grass that was dry yet still oozed with beautiful mossy hues. His first impressions of Helovia were positive, and they had continued to soar. But now, he thought back to how he had been a fiery beast with a short fuse, giving himself a less than fond name with the likes of d'Artagnan. Yet, as he thought back to those times, perhaps having the fire in his soul like he once had would get him somewhere. Now the brute felt like he was wandering through the lands with an extinguished soul, just a casing of sorrel pelt.

He glanced through up the low lying hill, shivering at the cold. Frostfall made him irate, he hated anything to do with the cold air. Ricciardo longed for the sound of birds, sands and open salt waters that covered the horizon for as long as he could see. Just like his birthland.

Soon his thoughts had the plug pulled on them, and he practically collided into the side of a silvered creature. Squeezing on the brakes, his sturdy pillars then pulled himself back, carefully throwing his handsome crown out of the way so as not to pierce flesh with his horn. Taken aback by not even noticing the creature, he then went on to investigate it. It was a fae, a beautiful one at that. She was pure frosted, tainted with violet hues in her pools and horn. This stranger was certainly a spectacular one.

Always a pretty face... his unconscious warned him, but for the Sandman he did not care. It was not uncommon for a brute's blood to be boiling with such raw passion for a beautiful vixen; Ricciardo was no exception. The flame-kissed brute apologised for his accident,
"Forgive me ma'm, I must admit I got distracted."

He dipped his head apologetically and in respect to the newcomer, before adding, "You are new to these lands?" His query was simply to quell the desire to speak with such a fine specimen. What was he becoming, stooping so low?

R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman.

His actions were definitive, and surely were to be seen as being ridiculous, but this was something that Ricciardo could not help. He felt as if his energy was being directed into one pure impulse, the need to talk to this silvered fae. With his mind full of wonder just at the sight of her magnificent display, he obviously looked a fool. The wary smile of which this stranger gave him was almost certainly mistook for actual kindness, the Sandman was playing straight into the firing line. Gladly. His soft underbelly was out for the entire world to see at this point, any defences neatly and swiftly shut down. His sandy pelt forgot his loathing for the biting Frostfall, the close heat of the vixen almost seeping through his skin.

As she spoke, he got the feeling that she was being flirtatious, but he pushed these thoughts away from his mind. Doubt was not something that Ricciardo wanted to have to come to terms with, and he simply let his lobes flick back and forth, listening intently. As much as he was a stupid beast in times like these, he was not completely disabled. He felt the sarcasm in her sweet tones, and this let his heart drop. Spontaneous conversation was not working, but the flame-kissed brute could not stop now. He pawed at the hard frozen ground with a sturdy, well-shaped dagger, causing his muscles to bulge in his strapping chest.
"I am glad, my lady..." his deep voice was tainted with friendliness, underlying the cautious approach he was having to push to keep on going, "I merely asked because it is not often that I see an established creature wandering through the Threshold." Yet I am here...? The Sandman even began to question his own decisions, as to why he was here. But leaving now was no option.

And then he shook all this off, and allowed himself to be played. He dropped down his defences in order to keep this beautiful fae from leaving. She spoke of her name, and asked for his in return. He gladly obliged and rushed out with it, "I am Ricciardo, I'm a Sandman from lands afar." He dipped his handsome crown, placing his horn in the pale light and it glinted with the possibilities he could offer. They were few and far between, but a horned beast was after all - magical. His thoughts wandered to the Veins, and how he desired to fully display these magical traits. In triumph to his revelation, he gave himself a satisfactory nod as he decided that he would once again take that journey in the near future.

Ricciardo soon brought his attention back to further query Keres. Her crown showed stunning beauty, the kind that he thought not possible. Her entire pelt blended in with the snow that lay on the terra firma, yet shone more beautiful than the icicles in the cold light. "What do you seek in Helovia, Keres?" He smiled politely, keeping his tone formal.