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01-15-2013, 08:53 PM
It isn't long before they're joined by another of the sneak rank, a stallion that stood just a little shorter than himself. While the pair had never spoken alone together, he had seen the dun several times in passing, each time giving him some sort of acknowledgement. His Plague brethren would always be shown respect, so long as they returned the gesture. He gives Shuler a nod of welcome before he returned his golden gaze back to the red maned Thief, wondering briefly if this was truly the extent of their group. While it was a bit sad, it was also quite nice, for the brindle would much prefer to operate these special missions with as few numbers as accureately possible. Directing his ears forward as Faelene began to speak, he took in every word she had to offer, absorbing it. It seemed there was no time for jokes, no time to piddle around before they were sent off to do whatever their mission would be. It took some of the fun away, but he understood that it was necessary. When the land of the Foothills was mentioned, Crowley did his best to recall any information he might have heard on the place, but nothing came to mind. Of course, he knew of its existance, but that was it. He would be going to the land with an open mind, unknowing of any of its history; was that a good or a bad thing? At Faelene's question, the brindle looked thoughtful for a moment, before he decided to speak up. "Should we seek the information directly, or from outside sources? As much as I would despise to live amongst them, I believe it would be our best shot." With a quick look to Shuler, he waited to hear what his partner, if that is what they would become, would have to say about it all. "It would be our most entertaining option," he added with a chuckle. |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
