08-25-2015, 12:54 PM
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
He has never been here before. It is odd, considering the number of places he had once called home, even if only for a brief span of time. But he had never before had the opportunity, nor the desire, to step foot into the oft traveled field. He glances around him with new eyes, curiosity and hope evident in those dark depths. It is irony at its finest that his first steps into this place bring him here not to search for a home, but to offer one. A quirk of his dark lips displays his amusement at that particular twist of fate.
He halts then, coffee colored eyes surveying his surroundings as he wonders just where to start. A subtle shift in the wind sends leaves scattering across the barren earth, a swirl of amber and crimson frolicking around his sturdy ebony limbs. The playful breeze tugs at his dark mane, twisting the already tangled locks even further. The gust might have done the same to his tail, did he have one. But in an oddity not often seen, genetics had left him without that distinctive feature. Where the rounded line of his rump would typically fall gracefully into a black plume, there is simply nothing.
The air is turning brisk, coats are growing thick in preparation for the oncoming winter. He shivers then, somewhat unprepared for the chill in the air. Having been born in the jungle, then moving to the desert, the place he would call home for the rest of his days, he has grown accustomed to the heat. But he ignores that brief shiver that runs across his pewter flesh. He is not about to give up so easily.
His dark eyes light upon a duo standing close together. Both appear rather rough, somewhat out of place against the glittering jewels of the field. His curiosity gets the best of him then. It has ever been his downfall, the bane of his existence: he cannot resist an anomaly.
Sturdy, rhythmic steps carry him close, close enough to converse easily, not close enough to cause any undue concern. He is a gentlemen after all, even as odd as he is. A slight grin touches his lips as his gaze flicks between the two ladies, the quirk of his lips a greeting he offers many. Dipping his head slightly, he introduces himself then.
Good morning ladies. I’m Shahrizai. Chilly day, isn’t it?
He halts then, coffee colored eyes surveying his surroundings as he wonders just where to start. A subtle shift in the wind sends leaves scattering across the barren earth, a swirl of amber and crimson frolicking around his sturdy ebony limbs. The playful breeze tugs at his dark mane, twisting the already tangled locks even further. The gust might have done the same to his tail, did he have one. But in an oddity not often seen, genetics had left him without that distinctive feature. Where the rounded line of his rump would typically fall gracefully into a black plume, there is simply nothing.
The air is turning brisk, coats are growing thick in preparation for the oncoming winter. He shivers then, somewhat unprepared for the chill in the air. Having been born in the jungle, then moving to the desert, the place he would call home for the rest of his days, he has grown accustomed to the heat. But he ignores that brief shiver that runs across his pewter flesh. He is not about to give up so easily.
His dark eyes light upon a duo standing close together. Both appear rather rough, somewhat out of place against the glittering jewels of the field. His curiosity gets the best of him then. It has ever been his downfall, the bane of his existence: he cannot resist an anomaly.
Sturdy, rhythmic steps carry him close, close enough to converse easily, not close enough to cause any undue concern. He is a gentlemen after all, even as odd as he is. A slight grin touches his lips as his gaze flicks between the two ladies, the quirk of his lips a greeting he offers many. Dipping his head slightly, he introduces himself then.
Good morning ladies. I’m Shahrizai. Chilly day, isn’t it?
shahrizai
hestoni x scorch