Every few years he disappears once whatever harem of women he’s coerced into hanging out fade off. Many simply leave his presence, or some die, or another comes and draws them away. He’s never tried to keep anyone from going, but each time they depart, especially the last of them, it does sting a little. His pride, anyway, emotionally he gets over it pretty quick. He’s tried his hand, in his prolonged years, at most every mediocre role one can have in Beqanna. His favorite role has always been a herd stallion, simple and yet if you’re doing it right, an appropriate amount of work to keep one stimulated. There’s socializing, sex, joy, labor, conflict, and sometimes even babies. The whole endeavor is generally, he thinks, a good time and ever so gentle a hand the purring ego that is always lording over his thoughts.
He has no business being here, lurking among a patch of young hemlocks and watching the field come alive from behind the veil of deep green fingers. At first it seems empty, a dead atmosphere, but with his own stillness he can hear and feel the air come to life around him. Horses mill about, as do the deer and fox, whatever other creatures like it here. A safe haven for the equine to commune and find homes. Being without official residence, if the River doesn’t count, one would think he’s here to change that. He’s certainly not.
For hours he watches and nothing of substance catches his attention until a mysterious glint causes light to bounce oddly across the ground in front of him. His half white head tilts to the side, cocking one ear back with puzzlement. Beqanna was full of weird stuff that makes no sense, but still he’s perplexed enough to want to see what it might be. He reaches out with a snort, stepping forward into the open to see that it isn’t material, like a wisp or similar, but indeed just light, like a reflection off of something shiny – and there it is. He’s rather dull to not have spotted her before, a golden mare, of actual gold not just in shade, stands not far in the grassy distance. He unceremoniously begins his approach as soon as he sees her.
“Well,” he begins with a rumbling chuckle once he’s close, “among all of the interesting types I’ve seen in this place,” His grin his greedy, but genuine in its glee, “a gorgeous mare made of gold is by far one of the greats.” he watches her face for expression, for what she might think of his familial tone and his casual way of addressing a complete stranger. Some did not like it, some respond well; it’s a very effective way to gauge the temperature of how a particular interaction is going to go pretty quickly. “I'm Chem, and I was just travelling through before I became distracted by your...shine.” his grin fattens and both ears flick forward, a forelock of jet-black locks cast over one of his bright teal eyes while the other keeps with her.
CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall
to the window, to the wall
( I hope its okay that i just threw him at her!
@[bible] )OKAY SO I WROTE THIS UP BEFORE I READ WHAT WAS HAPPENING WITH THE DARKNESS
