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10-10-2016, 03:51 PM
The sight of so many on the outskirts of the Dragon's Throat raised a silent alarm in Cathun's mind. Quietly, he stalks to edge of the ocean, making his way toward the cluster of Helovians near the Riptide Isles. When the call rings from the unseen stranger, his ears pin back, a mere flicker of flame against flame.
The burning man approaches the crowd nonchalantly, despite being a ball of fire, sizzling as the spray of ocean slaps his figure. Sparks fly occasionally as the wind whips about the pyre of his frame, making him take extreme caution in the crowd to not burn the flesh of those nearby. He takes to standing at the back of the crowd, waiting patiently to cross the landbridge to where the majority are now standing.
In the middle is the reason they are here, he supposes.
The creature itself is an ode to the ocean, leathery flesh of blue and scales. Wild seaweed and seastars cling to where his mane would be. Something about the expression on his face sits uneasily with Cathun, but he thinks it wise to simply observe instead of forming metaphorical waves about a creature who is no more conspicuous than himself. Steadily he crosses the sodden bridge, steam rolling from underneath the pillars of fire that were his legs, despite his attempt to approach as quietly as possible.
When you look like a tiny version of the sun, it is a little difficult to travel incognito.
He settles in behind the crowd, close enough to hear the conversation, yet far enough to keep the occasional ember from floating toward anyone. When unusual folk appear in Helovia, it is almost never a good sign. Let's hope this breaks the rule.
""
ooc -- Cathun is standing off toward the back trying not to draw attention to himself.
The burning man approaches the crowd nonchalantly, despite being a ball of fire, sizzling as the spray of ocean slaps his figure. Sparks fly occasionally as the wind whips about the pyre of his frame, making him take extreme caution in the crowd to not burn the flesh of those nearby. He takes to standing at the back of the crowd, waiting patiently to cross the landbridge to where the majority are now standing.
In the middle is the reason they are here, he supposes.
The creature itself is an ode to the ocean, leathery flesh of blue and scales. Wild seaweed and seastars cling to where his mane would be. Something about the expression on his face sits uneasily with Cathun, but he thinks it wise to simply observe instead of forming metaphorical waves about a creature who is no more conspicuous than himself. Steadily he crosses the sodden bridge, steam rolling from underneath the pillars of fire that were his legs, despite his attempt to approach as quietly as possible.
When you look like a tiny version of the sun, it is a little difficult to travel incognito.
He settles in behind the crowd, close enough to hear the conversation, yet far enough to keep the occasional ember from floating toward anyone. When unusual folk appear in Helovia, it is almost never a good sign. Let's hope this breaks the rule.
""
ooc -- Cathun is standing off toward the back trying not to draw attention to himself.
Cathun
a firebrand in the night
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