Aodhán
little fire
All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost
All of a sudden, the Pampas are crowded.
Wasn’t that how he imagined it should be? The reason to challenge the leading mare, why he thought didn’t so quite enough to attract more residents?
No. Not all crowds are good ones; he agrees on that with the pegasus roan anyway. What he imagined was a bunch of horses treating each other like family, and having children frolic in the flowery fields, or chase the small river to its source. Not… not a stallion looking on the verge of mental breakdown or a bunch of - pardon him - old-looking mares having some sort of reunion.
And the smell. The smell was not okay.
Death did not belong in a field of flowers; not even though one of them - he doesn’t know who - seems to have a power similar to Noah’s to revive them, to compromise perhaps for her own smell.
But what’s he to do about it? He’s only a resident, who by the way was only accepted halfway, as a form of compromise perhaps, since he was deemed too loud.
This must be terror in Noah’s eyes.
The white lizard scurries a little closer, but the meeting continues, continues, and voices were irritated and changed tone - perhaps one of them displayed behaviour that was now recognized as something to feel sorry for instead of be angry at. Nevertheless, the whole meeting is weird, so weird.
The lizard’s head pops out if the flowers when it stands on his hinds, then grows into a miniature dragon; horse-sized. Gold markings on his body appear, then he shifts fully, letting the scales exchange for hair and claws for hooves. Soon there is a white stallion with golden spots, eyeing all four of them warily. ”The Pampas is usually much more quiet than this.” he promptly tells them. The wary look and tone should indicate he is not sure if they’re a threat to his flowery home - or to Noah and her daughter.
Wasn’t that how he imagined it should be? The reason to challenge the leading mare, why he thought didn’t so quite enough to attract more residents?
No. Not all crowds are good ones; he agrees on that with the pegasus roan anyway. What he imagined was a bunch of horses treating each other like family, and having children frolic in the flowery fields, or chase the small river to its source. Not… not a stallion looking on the verge of mental breakdown or a bunch of - pardon him - old-looking mares having some sort of reunion.
And the smell. The smell was not okay.
Death did not belong in a field of flowers; not even though one of them - he doesn’t know who - seems to have a power similar to Noah’s to revive them, to compromise perhaps for her own smell.
But what’s he to do about it? He’s only a resident, who by the way was only accepted halfway, as a form of compromise perhaps, since he was deemed too loud.
This must be terror in Noah’s eyes.
The white lizard scurries a little closer, but the meeting continues, continues, and voices were irritated and changed tone - perhaps one of them displayed behaviour that was now recognized as something to feel sorry for instead of be angry at. Nevertheless, the whole meeting is weird, so weird.
The lizard’s head pops out if the flowers when it stands on his hinds, then grows into a miniature dragon; horse-sized. Gold markings on his body appear, then he shifts fully, letting the scales exchange for hair and claws for hooves. Soon there is a white stallion with golden spots, eyeing all four of them warily. ”The Pampas is usually much more quiet than this.” he promptly tells them. The wary look and tone should indicate he is not sure if they’re a threat to his flowery home - or to Noah and her daughter.
@[Kradle] I think you’re up?