the Rift


[OPEN] little people

Pippigrin Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Gladiator atk: 6.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 10hh :: Two HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Brandybuck :: Wolverine :: None Neverrmind
#1












home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread


So far, since joining the lions pride that was the Dragon's Throat, Pippigrin had created the most remarkable schedule for himself.
In the last week alone he had mistakenly fought off an intruder herd-mate. He had participated in a singles night where he had interracted with a curious amount of strangers from across the continent, and he was alarmed to discover that Helovia had Secret Groves as well as the desert and forest that he had observed thus far. It even had snowy mountains so he had heard!

As Birdsong twisted into Tallsun (he believed that was what they called summer), the heat became somewhat unbearable for the hobbit. He remained close by to the oasis under the palm shade, and his duties as chief manticore herder was put on hold until the first heat wave had passed.

In the vespertine hours of one early Tallsun night, Pippin found himself able to finally brave the heat. Curiously he ambled from the oasis in the direction of the temple, looking from that one and only structure for miles.
Oh, how he wished for company. He wished to drink and cheer among the other warriors! Like Mr. Gaucho!
But where did they all gather? Where could he find his comrades to chatter and clunk ales with, spin stories and storm off to battle with?

so far he had not met any other warriors, and this was a land famed for them. Surely he was not the only warrior in the dragon's throat?
Giving a great huff, the hobbit looked out among the kaleidoscope sky, wondering if it had been a great mistake to fly so far from home.

ooc; Pippin would really love to meet some more warriors and start a warriors club HAHA ✩ tagging a few!
@Volterra @Ilios @Nephele @Azulee





art: © x coding: © x

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
#2


Night brings blessed relief from the searing Tallsun heat, and since the seasons changed Volterra has found himself becoming almost nocturnal. The hot, sizzling days are good only for sleeping lazily beneath the shade of a tree whenever he's not doing his Sultan duties, leaving the nights for grazing and patrolling his borders. That's what he's doing now, his titanic frame prowling like a beast through the delicious chill of the night, searching for any intruders or predators. He's already chased off a mountain lion in a flurry of stallion's screams and flailing hooves, sending the creature scampering off in search of easier prey. His dragons pursued it with flame and ice until it thought twice about returning, and now he continues his meanderings with a distinct spring in his step from his victory.

A stirring in the distance draws his attention, and his ears immediately prick atop his head. Investigate, he commands the dragons, and they do so. They glide silently towards the movement upon wings of leather, circling overhead and sending their titan bonded images of the suspicious activity. Vadir's somewhat unpleasant giggle tells him who it is. "Teeny-tiny warrior," she says with a nasty snigger.

Volterra pauses his stride to glare up at her. Don't be such a bitch, he tells her, but secretly he shares her misgivings towards young Pippigrin. He'd met the pony by the oasis as he greeted Reichenbach, and he's still recovering from the shock of seeing a fully-grown member of his species who was so damn tiny. He'd had to do a double take when the diminutive pegasus had informed them that he was a warrior, and it would be wrong to say that Volterra isn't a tad worried about the state of his herd's soldiers when they are taking on somebody who could be flattened by a single hoof from an opposing force. Maybe Pippigrin is stronger than he looks, but the Indomitable is still rather concerned.

But as Sultan, he cannot have prejudices. The man is a Throat warrior, and he deserves respect even if he is so small that Vadir could probably devour him in one single mouthful. "May I?" she croons, swooping low over the pegasus so that he will surely be able to see her. For once, her red brother is just as eager as she is - to their predator's eyes, the tiny stallion is a tasty morsel, an item of prey to be hunted and slaughtered. No. Be gone. The rumbling command in his mental voice convinces his companions that he means what he says, and they reluctantly fly away in a chorus of angry shrieks.

That leaves the titan to approach his smallest warrior alone, and he does so after carefully schooling his face into neutrality. At almost eighteen hands, Volterra is a formidable specimen of a man, and when he reaches Pippigrin he realises that the pegasus could probably fit under his stomach without too much trouble. He tries to imagine facing something so small in battle, and a nasty thought occurs to him - what if the pony used his size to bite an opponent's dick or balls? The notion is disturbing, and the monolith subtly shuffles his thighs closer together and pins his tail to protect his manhood. "Pippigrin," comes his deep greeting. "What brings you out so late?" Perhaps the pegasus also finds the heat abhorrent.

V O L T E R R A

I AM THE RUMOUR ON EVERYONE'S LIPS
I AM THE CURSE ON YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S HIPS
ART: DARK


@Pippigrin

[ 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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