the Rift


MUSCLE TO MUSCLE;

Reichenbach Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 8 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Space
#1
 


R E I C H E N B A C H


The sun shone warm on his broad back, bringing out the ruddy hues within his mahogany coat and sending sharp rays of light bouncing off of the coins tangled within his mess of ebony hair. It was a pleasant day - not too warm, not too cold, and Reichenbach found himself in the most dapper of moods as he wandered the woods without direction or purpose. He had done so for quite some time now, finding himself lingering here and there but never really settling somewhere - it was too hard to refuse when the wind whispered his name and the idea of more ambled just ahead of his fingertips. Besides, he couldn't stop remembering what it felt like to have a family, someone to care about, and all too often he'd rather forget. He didn't want to remember laughing uncontrollably with his brother and King over something menial, or grumbling when he had to take Sonnet for a walk of the boundaries to familiarise her, and he definitely did not want to remember kissing Aysu tenderly - as if she might break in his rough, calloused hands. A frustrated sigh huffed from his deep lungs as he shook his head free of such thoughts, coal black curls tumbling around his rugged hewn face.

Reichenbach returned to his surroundings, his abyssal silver eyes blinking up at the pleasant sky as he dutifully emptied his head and plastered an amused smile upon his black lips. He was a coarsely handsome man, with rough hewn bones and a square jaw, his eyes rimmed by such a thicket of ebony lashes that if they had been on anyone else, would have seemed feminine. His shoulders were round and muscular, standing tall but solid with deep mahogany skin that seemed to pull over his frame and muscles in the most spectacularly elegant way. His hair tumbled from him in a mess of wild coal curls, as black and thick as his lashes - but it was his eyes that most noticed, stark and colourless but often full of emotion so abyssal it was easy to get lost. He didn't try to hide what he felt, either. What would be the point? Reichenbach despised lies and had no use for them - if he were angry, then whoever had made him so would sure as hell know about it.

Reich continued through the forest, absently hearing the coins knotted in his hair and around his leg jingling quietly with each movement. Though he found a quiet pleasure in the trees around him, he longed for the desert and the heat that seemed to permeate his bones. He ran hot - hot blooded, hot tempered and with a need for scorching sunlight. Which direction then? Where would his feet take him today?





Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#2

saut dans le vide, my lover


East the serpent had slithered, his hunt taking him stalking across the meadow and into the grave-like trees that called themselves the Threshold. Equipped with his maroon scarf and his beloved Cākāna hoist around his neck, the serpentine gelding slunk beneath the canopy in the shadow of a doe.

Bullwhip now clasped readily between his incisors, Toulouse readied his jowls for what was sure to be quite the fight.
The vampire began by extending his neck and craning his head upwards before he allowed the whip to slash the air, knotting its way around the ankle of his unsuspecting prey. A throaty growl escaped his mouth, ricocheting from the very back of his lungs as he dragged the wriggling cervine along the ground, teeth barred and his chops hardly able to suppress their lust for her throat. His knee pinned her neck to the ground, the weight of his own belly holding her scampering legs to ground as he leant in for a death-blowing strike.

It was a jingle and a clink that startled the carnivore as he stood hunched over his meal, glassy eyes now crooning up into the forest. Someone else was near. Blue and black veins pulsated within his neck as he battled the wish and want within his mind, teeth leering forwards in desperation for the blood he so fervently needed.
It was a risk he could not take.
Suppressing not only his deep desire for blood, for a meal, for the taste of iron and plasma, but also for the relief that might come with a great roar of anger at his predicament the gelding snagged the bullwhip from the stunned deer's hock and rid his knees from pinning her in place.

The whistle of the leaves upon his knees as the doe made her rush to safety was easily ignored as Toulouse's glassy eyes now lay fixed between the trees. A dark brute stood watching, wandering, a tendril of mysterious coins adorning his mane.
So this was the one who had disturbed him. Toulouse didn't know whether to treat him as the nuisance he was, to leave him be, or to simply be a gentleman - there were just so many options.

Stepping fourth, the basilisk aimed his steps with precision among the earth; the kind that would allow him to make as little noise as was possible.
Taking his place behind a shielding spruce, the specter finally spoke.
"Your coins sing so loud an arrow could have got you in the dark..." It was spoken almost playfully - the gelding finally looked upon the stallions face and saw he was handsome... and older perhaps. His lucky day.
"You are not from these parts" he uttered to the man; a deduction Toulouse might say, though really it was more of a guess.


ooc; because i mean do you even thread without me
@reichenbach


art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Reichenbach Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 8 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Space
#3
 


R E I C H E N B A C H


"Your coins sing so loud an arrow could have got you in the dark..."

Reichenbach replied before turning, his baritone voice pleasant even if his words were not; "I should be so lucky." Yet as he turned his face was split into a buoyant grin, his eyes bright and jovial as he took in this new aspect of his wanderings. He looked Toulouse up and down unabashedly, silver eyes pausing at the bullwhip that lay abandoned upon the ground and then trailing back up to the pale faced serpent with interest. "No I'm not." He admitted with nonchalance, reclining his hind leg relaxedly and tilting his broad skull as he smiled, white teeth shining. "You're not either" he claimed, tossing a slip of hair from his face, "You're a desert boy - though I don't know which desert." Perhaps an ambitious declaration, but one Reichenbach was sure of. For starters - that maroon scarf, surely it wasn't just for show, and then there was the posture, the shape of him. And after that, Reich had never met anyone from the desert that didn't have an air of survival around them: this, Toulouse had in abundance. But all it did was make Reichenbach like him more - anyone from the desert was a friend of his.

"I'm Reichenbach," he stepped forward comfortably (if not a little brazenly, after all, the stallion was still a stranger), "What were you doing back there?" Reich paused, raised a brow and then added seriously "Spying on me?" he allowed the silence to stretch before throwing Toulouse a charming grin "I'm flattered." Another amiable laugh left his throat, almost as if it were a habit, and he examined the maroon scarf again. Such a good idea! While nobody in his homeland had worn scarves (or any decorations, for that matter) he appreciated the forward thinking and found himself fascinated. What desert had this elegant bodied man come from? His eyes were slightly unnerving, though Reich was attempting to avoid thinking about them, along with the glimpse of canines that he'd spotted when the other man spoke. This was so new and strange, a first meeting unlike the many others he had made on his way through - on his way here? He pushed the thought aside and smiled again at the pale skinned snake, treading closer again almost as if he were going to sling a friendly arm over Toulouse's slim shoulders.

Up close Toulouse looked alarmingly decadent, like a male model trussed up in desert-wear, his cheekbones sharp and elegant and his eyes (as alarming as they were) bright and distinctly intelligent. Reich chose to ignore how pretty he was, shoving down memories of a boy called Argent at the same time, and asked "So, you know my name. What is yours, and where did you get your bullwhip? I should like one myself."





@Toulouse ew ending but STILL

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#4
She hears the two men well before she sees them. Their low tones—a mixture of masculinity and silk—carry quite easily through the woodland, with the spring breeze ferrying their words to the ocean mare like a sigh of beckoning. She cups their voices with tulip-shaped ears, exhaling with the wind as it passes, before her large eyes glance through the forest. Seeing no one from where she stands, the ocean maiden moves forward. Cloven hooves step daintily through the underbrush, following paths long-since weathered by countless pairs of passing feet, each on a journey towards a strange new world. How wondrous it is, that so many different paths of life can be filtered into this same place!

Tiamat ponders on what stories these trees could tell, what they would say, and who they have seen. Only when her companion nudges her flank does the mare stir from her reveries, sucking in a breath before her head turns towards the little whale. Nimue whistles softly, bumping her round nose gently against her bondmate’s, and the two share a breath before, suddenly, they are no longer alone. Stumbling into the small clearing with steps as smooth as water, Tiamat offers both of them a bright grin.

“Good day, gentlemen!” Her voice is a coo of warmth and delight, the rays of sun that filter through the leafy boughs framing her delicate features, and enlightening the geniality in her eyes. They are both much larger than herself, the two stallions (??—she accidentally catches a glimpse of something (or lack of something, rather) that suddenly makes her cheeks blush with a flood of embarrassment).

Quickly she moves on with her train of thought, focusing first on the handsomely burnished man. “My name is Tiamat. Reichenbach, was it? I caught your voice through the trees—” the ocean mare gestures towards the woods that surround them, a softer smile on her lips when she looks back to the stallion, “Such an exotic name, you’ll have to tell me more.” There is an honest curiosity in her expression. Ever curios of the world and ever eager to learn more, Tiamat finds that her curiosity is rarely satisfied. Clearing her throat, Tiamat then looks to the lighter colored male, maintaining her amiable grin. “I don’t believe that I caught yours, Sir?” She questions him with an equal amount of interest, the length of her tail swaying gently around her hips.


notes; eee so happy to be threading with you two!
“Speech.”
the ocean loved her—
and knew everything that made her
image credits
@Reichenbach
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#5

saut dans le vide, my lover


An eyebrow cocked, his jaw tightening against his teeth as his gaze remained afixed on that held by the stag who offered a friendly enough reply and a handsome smile. It took only a few more moments for Toulouse to relax under his gaze, a small smile of his own beginning to creep upon his velveteen lips.
A desert boy? How observant. Had he guessed that by pinning him on his curled ears and leggy structure? He was a prime example of desert-born blood, that was for sure. Though clearly his deductions only did him half a justice - the Great Plains had been the land Toulouse had fled from... though the land in which he was born and raised was another matter altogether.

The specter was soon to speak a word of his own when an introduction came, and thenceforth an accusation that he had been spying. In jest it may be, though it hardly budged even the beginnings of a smirk upon his maw.
Of course he had been spying though.
"I am Toulouse of the World's Edge; A Specter" He spoke this with a confidence he hardly needed to muster, yet it was only after he spoke that he realised this newcomer would hardly understand the terms associated with Helovian ranks. "...an 'agent'" the palomino clarified.

Tossing his nose over his hsoulder at the mention of his bullwhip, Toulouse's heart have a sick, shallow shud. Had he seen him attack? Was he discovered?
No, surely not - This man who stood before him would be over a mountain and screaming for help had he seen such a thing.
"It was given to me" He spoke plainly, wishing terribly not to dwell on the name or the thought of the person who bestowed it upon him. Turning upon his haunces, Toulouse continued to speak over his shoulder as he tread over to where his whip lay in the earth, collecting it with his teeth and throwing the lash over his neck. "I am sure the weavers north of here could make you one".

Upon returning to the gentleman, feeling like he could actually smile by now, another joined them. This one he felt as though he had seen beforem though perhaps not. Lovely was she, a daughter of the sea - cloaked in seaweed and shells. "Toulouse" He spoke to her, now smiling towards the both of them.  
"You have not chosen the safest place in Helovia to wander my lady. All manner of beasts and vagabonds roam here"
With this, his crystaline gaze crossed to those of Reichenbach, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grim smirk.

ooc; nopenopenope your writing is lovely and this chesmistry is too much to bear ★ and reli my friend! always a pleasure ♡
@reichenbach


art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#6
THE INDOMITABLE

It has been months since he last trod this hallowed turf, since he last prostituted himself for the sake of gaining a new recruit to the Throat. His success rate had been quite high, yet the Indomitable had slowed his Threshold frenzy when he realised his herdmates saw it as a dereliction of his duties as Gladiator. He's not been back since, not until his thick limbs automatically brought him here on a whim today, seeking distraction from the Isopia-related pain that still carves his heart in two.

Volterra knows what he wants. Despite the ache in his loins and his desire to fill the Throat with broads to entertain him, he knows that the herd needs able-bodied warriors, soldiers willing to lay their bodies on the line for him. For today, he needs to put aside his stallion's instincts and focus on what is best for the herd, and the sexist in him tells him that he needs men. So it's those he looks for, passing over many an eligible bachelorette and silently praising himself for how resolute he has become in recent times, how easy it now is for him to forgo pleasure in favour of duty. Sometimes, anyway.

It isn't long before the mammoth warlord has found precisely what he's looking for, a man already surrounded by two others. One of them is the gelding that Volterra fought in Frostfall, now sporting a savage-looking bullwhip which draws the attention of his crimson eyes. The other is a Basin mare who had attended the ill-fated alliance meeting, and the leviathan offers both curt nods before turning his attention to the stallion. He is well-built, sturdy and with enough bulk about him to become a good warrior if he isn't one already; Volterra scrutinises, observes, and deems him worthy. "Welcome to Helovia, Reichenbach. I am Volterra, Gladiator of the Dragon's Throat." His piercing crimson gaze fixes upon the other equine, his own thick muscles at ease and his body language neutral. He is dragonless today, as the duo are off plundering the Threshold of its prey, but this does little to detract from his fearsome appearance; fearsome enough to hopefully entice Reichenbach to join him.

"If you are interested in joining a herd, the Throat welcomes new members, especially ones who look like they may have a talent on the battlefield." The beast's deep rumble of a voice is devoid of any notion of sucking up - he is simply stating a fact.

image credits

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Reichenbach Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 8 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Space
#7
 


R E I C H E N B A C H


The capacity in which the world continuously managed to surprise him had Reichenbach in a constant state of humour - that Toulouse, that sharp tongued, comely fellow could be outdone in looks by a newcomer, a stranger, was unexpected to say the least. Instead of being abashed and nerve-wracked by Tiamat, Reich found himself completely engaged, his soft black lips bracing into yet another fond grin. Watching the gentle mares arrival Reich spoke distractedly; "I shall have to find these weavers and acquire one, Toulouse", he tore his gaze from Tia's arrival and smiled pleasantly at Toulouse, eyes alive with some sense of mischief. Was this Helovia based on the genes of the extremely good looking? He huffed a laugh at the thought. If such a thing were true, then he would certainly find a home here - if only for his own benefit.

"And yours, Tiamat, is just as mysterious - and lovely." Reichenbach paused, abyssal eyes focussed almost completely on Tiamat, flicking every now and again to Toulouse, as if he couldn't decide who he wanted to look at more. "You have not chosen the safest place in Helovia to wander my lady. All manner of beasts and vagabonds roam here" he looked to Toulouse, catching the humour in the other mans gaze and returning it with a rewarding smile, his silver eyes brazen with attraction. "It's true" he rumbled "I'm as much a vagabond as you can get - but perhaps you might be willing to train me out of it" Reich accompanied his words with a quick wink, harmless and bold in the presence of his two lovely companions. He tossed his hair absentmindedly, the thick lashes of his silver eyes brushing his cheekbones softly as he blinked toward yet another newcomer.

Reich stiffened slightly at the approach of Volterra, muscles tensing lightly as if preparing for whatever might come of his arrival. He needn't of worried, however, with the pale faced stallion intoning welcomes and pleasantries - though his overlooking of Toulouse and Tiamat raised his hackles ever so slightly. "And why should I be interested in joining Dragons Throat?" he asked coolly, brows raising slightly.





@Toulouse @Volterra @Tiamat I'm so excited to be threading with you all!! Such famous characters for little Reich haha <3 also sorry Reich is being a dick to Vol, he's actually going to go with him to the Throat but he's a jerk haha

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#8
In the first few moments of her arrival, the ocean mare finds the two gentlemen quite worthy of such a gallant title. The large man of chocolate and ebony has a smile so dazzling, that she hardly recognizes how hers  reciprocates, softening into a more demure gesture that hovers between delight and bashfulness. And the other man (Toulouse, he calls himself) has a facade so perfectly ironed and swathed in silk, that her blissful mind cannot yet fathom the black snakes that might slither behind such glittering eyes.

Then Reichenbach compliments her name as lovely, and like any young blossoming (innocent, maiden) mare, Tiamat tucks her head in towards her chest and giggles softly. The length of her lion tail curls happily behind her and her eyes twinkle beneath her lashes. Feeling the emotions through their bond, Nimue stirs, warbling a short whistle to her bondmate as her baby blues trail to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Some more blushing might have ensued, but Tiamat’s attention is distracted when Toulouse speaks. He talks of things that the sea mare would rather not contemplate—dangers, shadows, and monsters—and while Reichenbach murmurs his consent, she finds herself pointedly unphased.

Large white eyes flicker between the two of them, and a patient grin softens her expression. Given the tragedy of recent events—both within her own home and throughout Helovia—Tiamat cannot allow herself to drown in the grief and doubts that swarm her young mind. Clinging to her thread of hope, she returns Reichenbach’s playful banter, as her heart is naturally inclined to more pleasant topics.

“Perhaps I will—life is better enjoyed when you’re not alone. Besides,” she pauses with a raise of her chin, pretending to appraise the large brown stallion with a keen eye, “you don’t seem so bad.” She holds the charade for as long as she can manage, but ever the one with her heart on her sleeve, it isn’t long before her head drops and a chime of laughter breezes past her lips. Shaking her head with a flurry of blue hair and tinkling shells, Tiamat hums quietly to herself, her focus shifting towards Toulouse as the laughter dies. “I’ve been to Helovia’s Threshold many, many times; I appreciate your concern, my friend, though I see no reason to worry,” she reassures the stranger with a gentle smile.

By then, their three-some becomes a company of four. The third stallion is one the ocean mare recognizes from her travels to the outskirts of the Throat (Volterra! She recognizes his name as soon as he introduces himself). Straightway he offers Reichenbach an invitation, to which the burnished stallion challenges with a question.

At this, Tiamat tilts her head a little as her attention narrows towards him, the line of her lips quirking with amusement as she thinks to herself. “Having a home is a wonderful thing,” the sea mare interjects with an explanation of her own—as simple as it is true. “I enjoy mine in the north, the Aurora Basin. I don’t know what I would do without it,” her heart swells and her voice becomes almost wistful as she talks of her mountain valley. It is so much more than a place to live or somewhere to rest or head—it is a part of her. Has Reichenbach never felt that?


“Speech.”
the ocean loved her—
and knew everything that made her
image credits
@Toulouse
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#9

saut dans le vide, my lover


Hardly any time had passed until yet another turned their company of three into four. It was a man Toulouse would always remember; one he greatly respected and one which, to an extent, also feared.
"Volterra, Old friend" Toulouse spoke to the gladiator, a wry smile pinned across his face by paperclips. There had been no time for introductions during their fight, yet Volterra the Indomitable, a name whispered over the sands, would always be unmistakable.

But this company was becoming far too tight and chatty for his liking. The pleasantries were more than a bore, and the vampire had slithered eastward for one reason only. To hunt; not to chat.
Smiling plesantly at the nothern healer for a short time and nodding to aknowledge the words he spoke, he soon found himself even more eager to quit this horrid bore of a scene. The man who stood before him though kept him stood there a little while longer, listening and watching his remarks and answers to the other's prods. Reichenbach intrigued him, that much was true.

And so, when he was certain he had left enough of an impression, the gelding turned to make his leave. "My bullwhip and I have an appointment-" he uttered with a smirk, pale eyes crossing over each equine gathered "-so regrettably, I must go"
Turning on his haunches the gelding began to breeze past Volterra, flicking his tail over the behemoths back "Wish me luck" he laughed to the black beast of a man, his footfalls taking him winding away thought the trees.
His mind strayed from the hunt the further he walked, his thoughts always turning curiously back to the same man. Reichenbach.

ooc; toulou has made his exit ;) ♡
@volterra


art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#10
THE INDOMITABLE

Volterra, old friend. The titan cannot help the grin that flexes across his features at Toulouse's words; for all his initial anger at the man's vampiric fangs directed towards his neck, he has no real quarrel with him. "You bite your friends?" he remarks, his baritone earthquake of a voice tinged with amusement. The gelding takes his leave, then, and Volterra dips his mammoth head in a goodbye before returning his attention to Reichenbach.

The rogue stallion addresses him, then, questioning why he should join the Throat. Volterra pauses for a moment whilst he ponders his answer; alas, he has never been a wordsmith and cannot suddenly summon the ability to be one simply because he is attempting to recruit. All he can do is speak from the heart, speak openly, honestly and truthfully about why this man should want to cut short his freedom and join the Throat. The Indomitable is perhaps the oracle on such a situation; he, too, had vowed to live alone until he could take a crown, never to simply join.

"That depends entirely on your reasons for wanting to join a herd in the first place, if indeed that is what you wish to do. If you seek to climb up the ranks, then the Throat rewards activity and hard work; if you are content to remain at the bottom then that is acceptable, provided you still pull your weight. If you desire safety, then you cannot get much safer than an island that can be accessed only by those with wings or by those in possession of a magical key." His own key twinkles prettily in the sunlight. "And if you simply seek company, a family, then we all fight for each other regardless of our backgrounds and personal opinions." He is beginning to realise this, as much as he had initially doubted it due to events shortly after his arrival. He had not been accepted at first due to his unfamiliarity and the fact he'd jumped from wandering outcast into a high rank, but now he thinks that at least some of the herd would die for him as quickly as he would die for them.

Ah, so sentimental! The leviathan gives a rather self-conscious snort and falls silent, painfully aware of the presence of Tiamat and this rather butch-looking stallion who might not appreciate such dripping praise of a herd.

image credits


@Reichenbach No worries at all :D

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]





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