Old Warrior, Swallowed and Spitten [Joining, Any] (Offspring, Hurricane)

[Sindor Aura]

Sindor seemed to be a bit more at ease now, muscles relaxed and laid back as he let his neck drop a bit after relieving the itch. His snout, hooves and ears back at work even if he was relaxing for now. If he learned anything from being a warrior at Hurricanes side and a guard of the Tundra, it was to be alert at all times. There were other lessons he learned being a warrior...but they fogged his mind as well. It made him a bit mad with himself, yet another life he had made washed away in his mind, just like his past.

The big Stallion rumbled to himself in-curse of his amnesia. All his life, all that he could remember anyways, has been ripped and shredded in his mind, only finding fragments here and there. At least the young stallion remembered he actually had a place in the Tundra, and the few days of training as he wasn't a full fledged warrior quite yet, it would of been at least a year or two before he would of become one. 

The stallion smiled, remembering the bits and pieces of training he did with the two he trusted checking up on him every now and then. Sindor trained good and hard, almost to exhaustion...a lot of his downfall being that he could no longer see. Sindor had been blind ever since he came into this world, and was taken to Tundra by Hurricane. Only thing that Sindor could see was darkness, followed by very very slim darker figures moving about. It got worse everyday to the point where Sindor believed there was no more seeing for him; even now his eyes seemed to play tricks on him...until a voice was heard. 

A feminine voice to his side, a few feet away it sounded like, calling out to him. Questions of looking for leaders or specific other horses, which she was right to assume. Sindor's senses went to work, trying to gather all the information she may of been giving off to him, smell, the feel of her hooves on the ground, and the tone of her voice. He knew better than to be careful around strange mares, and to be wary of what is said.

"Ah! Yes, I don't mean to intrude on anyone's home. I'm on the lookout for anyone who knows Hurricane or Offspring. And...also what happened to my home in Tundra. I woke up in a strange area and can't remember what had happened." Sindor, now following the conversation with the mare, stood as proper as he could; head held high, front legs straight and hind legs stiff. Trying to remember his trainee stance he learned when being a warrior, or the one he made up to look important.