Peace.

Why have peace, when you could have chaos?

Brothers of darkness and flame walked the borders of the homeland, always, they marched, like obedient dogs fetching a stick and returning to their master, they went, and fetched information, secured the safety of their homes, and they returned to their Lords. But there was chaos brewing at the Foothills, and the brothers relished in it. They felt alive as the calls of challenges echoed on the wind, as an uprising was imminent. They were excited, and the youthful way in which they marched this day showed it, hiding their wizened old age beneath an energetic jig that allowed onlookers to believe they were young colts again.

Haphazard blazes pointed in opposite directions, as the brothers left the borders of what would be their homeland, the Foothills, though they were only barely loyal to it. They were loyal to their family, and not many souls in the Foothills had earned that right; they were of the Qian, though they did not reside in the Edge where the rest of their kin did, they still called themselves Qian, they were still brothers to the DragonHeart, and Rishima, still Protectors of the Qian whilst being Warriors of the Foothills. They would protect the Foothills, yes, but their hearts were not in it, at least, not until recently. A fiery youth whose passion to correct the wayward path the future of the Foothills was taking had reignited their interest in the land, and they hoped to see it rise to something they could be proud to call their home.

The Deep Forest called to them, much like it had when the Qian had once called it their home, only a handful of seasons ago. The lands which they were born into held a forest, the Forest of the Eclipse, similar to this, darkness was not something they feared or balked at; they embraced it, orchestrated it, controlled and manipulated it to their every whim. The knights of shadow and flame walked with pride through this Forest, a pride that was etched in the arched way their napes held their majestic crowns, and the subtle lifting of their tails as the faint Arabic influence on the blood hinted at an elegance hidden beneath titanic bulks of toned muscle and sinew.

The appearance of a mare did little to heed their motions; instead of a straight line, the brothers now split, parting sides to encircle her. Footsteps were taken in perfect synchrony, as deadly, orange eyes viewed this little creature with a predator's hunger. Grins split their lips, and deep chuckles rumbled through their throats.

Let's have some fun.

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