|winter| [d'Artagnan, any]

|winter| [d'Artagnan, any]

d'Artagnan the Nightshade Posts: 364

Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE

Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed imi

02-13-2013, 09:38 AM

See the life I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad

A red ear flickers to a strangers call to him, a Medic who came from the Foothills who also apparently came for council. d'Artagnan snorted and made his way across the frosty grounds of the Basin with Aramis marching by his side, dainty chest puffed out. The sickly way in which he had been called made the shade think that this healer was not going to be like him. She would probably care for the lives of others where as the Mender, to put it simply, couldn't care less. There was the scent of two here though the other had remained quiet, and soon d'Artagnan rounded another corner to come face to face with a unicorn and a talking tree. He let the amusement shudder through him and suddenly he began to wonder if this was why they never heard much from the Foothills. Did they all have trees on their backs? d'Artagnan could've walked past a dozen of them by now without even noticing. There was definitely a form of horse under there and Aramis was looking at her rather thoughtfully. Probably wondering if he could relieve himself on the strange looking tree horse or not.

He offered the pale, unicorn femme a curious look, wondering if she was here on healers business too or was simply a body guard for an old lady. He let his amusement subside before returning to his more serious face. Turning his head to one side to address the looming Willow, "d'Artagnan the Nightshade, Time Mender, and why should I grant you council or even five minutes in this land?" His tones filled gruffly with coldness, dual coloured eyes simmering dangerously with only the rules of the Basin holding him in back for now. Civility he didn't do very well, it meant he had to actually think about what he was doing or saying and all though he was capable of it, d'Artagnan never really had the patience to practise it. The word 'council' always seemed to mean a long, drawn out conversation that required all his concentration.

The Nightshade simply preferred the shorter, more direct words that summed up his feelings in a 'to the point' way. Though, he had some ways to go before he could be as small worded as Deimos.