| Dragon's Throat Soldier |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4 |
| FennecFyre |
Aryel (December)
"Wait...what the--"
Aryel, who had been expecting this unicorn to be a little more polite, flattened her ears in annoyance. Why did people always have to mention her new markings? (Not that the appaloosa markings weren't starting to grow on her, when they weren't glowing at least. White and dark blue looked very fetching on her, so she liked to think). "Better to look garish for a short while than plain for your whole life, as you must no doubt be." she shot back.
She said nothing as he advised them to be more respectful, then snorted. "Respect? Don't let that horn of yours go swelling your head." she said, a warning tone in her voice. Aryel had known plenty of polite unicorns before, but it seemed that in Helovia that vast majority were racist snobs that all needed a good hard kick in the nethers. She pondered over her next words, wondering what his real purpose here was. She nodded as the equine--Rowan, that was her name--advised him to speak with the Sultan and Sultana if he wished to stay for an extended amount of time. And it was true, they were a somewhat militaristic herd, but surprisingly paradoxical in that respect with their strong views of race equality and loyalty to eachother. They were strong, brave, and organized, and she loved it. "Absolutely." she said, responding to the mare's question aimed at her. "I wouldn't have stuck around for so long if I didn't like it here."
She looked back at Tribute. "As for you, if you turn that attitude down a little I'm sure the leaders will gladly let you stay for as long as you wish. Kri and Leander, that's their names."
"blah blah blah."
"WHAT IS THIS GYPSY MAGIC SH*T?!"
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Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.
Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.
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Without a hint of regret I'll hold you to it [open!]
