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07-15-2016, 10:53 AM
Imani is not unfamiliar with bad luck.
The bones that rattle gently against his shoulder with every stepped remind him, as surely as the reflection of his ill-fated eyes. And yet he trots through the Threshold with an easy, almost jaunty step. It is warm but away from the oppressive humidity of the Edge it is almost pleasant. But then he is a creature born of the border between the scorched grasses of the plains and the sinister darkness of deep jungle. The light falls in bars between the tree branches, creating stripes of light and shadow upon his already striped hide.
His ears perk forward at the sound of bodies and a voice and he angles towards them, driven by curiosity and perhaps a lingering sensation that he is still supposed to be a shepherd. Trained to his role, it is difficult to shed the mantle despite that it has no meaning here. As he comes upon the small stream, his eyes are greeted by the sight of a pale, delicate mare with banners so long he at first wonders that she doesn't tangle herself in them. She is joined by another stallion, it seems, who calls her a stranger and asks if she is new here. Then, this painted stallion is not. Imani's odd eyes sweep over them both and he gives them a polite nod.
"Hello," he offers them both. He doesn't approach quite as close as the other stud, mostly because he thinks that would crowd them all unnecessarily. "I hope the day finds you both well."
He waits to say more to hear the mare's answer, resting with one hind hoof cocked with just the toe off the ground. His thick, striped tail flicks habitually to keep off whatever of Tallsun's pests might be trying to pester him.
OOC://
Imani
