For no real good reason, considering he’s upheld a spotless one hundred percent neglect ratio of his duties thus far and come to no ill will among the herd because of it, the old stallion is prodded into following the new Thieves to the Endless Blue, their gold marked leader instructing them to search for clues and resources among the sand and sea while their military counterparts search the Marsh farther south.

Soon after, their small band breaks into singles, some wading into the crystalline water, others tracing its oscillating edge along the shore, using the more solid footing of dampened sand to travel with ease, both respectable choices given that Kaos rose out of this sea and onto this very beach just seasons ago, but the old stallion only stands and watches, bereft of both internal motivation and specific direction, the heat of the unfettered sun washing across his back, warming him and making him drowsy.

One ear turns slowly toward the second Thief as she touches down, his emerald eyes opening fully to watch her wings extend, the smoke and cream of her feathers bending against the resistance of buffeting air, but holding firm, the wind breaking against her outstretched limbs to slow her descent. She folds them away upon landing, shuffling each row of gradient color into its proper place with a final twitch that settles the whole arrangement along her ribs and flanks - her very feminine flanks. The black sighs, an oddly wistful note to the long exhale, his attention abruptly turning from the mare.

Her coat is sleek, the lines of her body smooth and soft, but where once he found this softness alluring, now he finds it somehow lacking. Inexplicably, irrationally, there's almost a perception of immaturity in the roundness of her hips, the petite curve of her jaw. It makes no sense, truly, for her overall impression is one of a mare fully grown, nicely filled out and in good health, but still, he finds himself roaming her features for a hardness, a scruffiness that doesn't exist, only her wings drawing a brief moment of interest from him and those too are wrong - wrong color, wrong size, attached to the wrong body.

Frowning, he steps away, angling not towards the water and the other stealth members, but inland, toward the deeper sand of the dunes separating beach from plain. With another sigh, this one a mix of melancholy and boredom, he shoulders himself to the ground, stretching and groaning as the rough particles scour his back and sides, his companion wriggling from the cotton folds at his chest to copy-cat his rolling, rubbing his scales to a reflective gloss against the heated sands.


"Talk."
OOC // @Imogen because he eyed you super hard. xD

albrecht

I've created a monster,
a beast within my brain.