some are lost in the fire
some are built from it
It's been too long since he's been here. Too long since he's been anywhere really – too long since he'd been within the Chamber in any kind of proper way. Too long since he'd been to another kingdom, to visit and learn of their varying power. Too long since he's made himself useful to the Chamber with the single-minded devotion that he knows she deserves.
And so it is that he makes up his mind and sets out. He could fly to his destination, but today something feels right about walking. He enjoys the trip, long as it might be. The world seems almost impossibly beautiful as he goes, although he wouldn't put it past that world to be beautiful simply because he is (finally) serving his home again, walking the paths that his hooves are meant to walk, doing all of the things that he, a good prince and dutiful soldier of the Chamber, would be meant to do.
Either way, he is happy.
He comes upon the field in midday, and he considers it for a moment. This place had once been his constant domain, a place where he'd lingered constantly. He'd met many horses here, although he'd rarely had much success bringing them back. His countrymen had been here too, he can still smell them thick on the air, and they've clearly had more success – the Chamber isn't lacking for members, isn't lacking for activity. But it can always have more.
No, it needs more, and he will provide.
He looks around, and soon spots a mare attended by only one stallion. Erebor is not necessarily one to interrupt an ongoing conversation, but he also believes in choices – and one stallion does not choices make. Determined now, he approaches the two of them, coming upon the group just in time to hear the mare give her name. He offers both of them a polite nod.
At first glance, he looks like most any young stallion in the prime of his life should look. His black coat is vibrant with health and stretched taut over a warrior's defined muscles. But when you look closer, some subtle differences can be seen. His mane and tail are a mix of deep blue and dark green, not black like they should be. And around his left foreleg a strange wine-dark marking stretches, a tribal tattoo intertwining the figure of a rabbit, the figure of a teddy bear, the figure of a Pegasus, and the figure of a strange humanoid creature.
"Pardon the interruption." he offers to both of them, once the stallion has finished speaking. His voice is pleasant, a commander's voice even though he does not command. "I'm Erebor, and I too would like to know if you're looking for a home." his voice is diplomatic, his tones clear and calm. He is entirely at his ease, an interesting contrast perhaps to the two he'd interrupted.
And so it is that he makes up his mind and sets out. He could fly to his destination, but today something feels right about walking. He enjoys the trip, long as it might be. The world seems almost impossibly beautiful as he goes, although he wouldn't put it past that world to be beautiful simply because he is (finally) serving his home again, walking the paths that his hooves are meant to walk, doing all of the things that he, a good prince and dutiful soldier of the Chamber, would be meant to do.
Either way, he is happy.
He comes upon the field in midday, and he considers it for a moment. This place had once been his constant domain, a place where he'd lingered constantly. He'd met many horses here, although he'd rarely had much success bringing them back. His countrymen had been here too, he can still smell them thick on the air, and they've clearly had more success – the Chamber isn't lacking for members, isn't lacking for activity. But it can always have more.
No, it needs more, and he will provide.
He looks around, and soon spots a mare attended by only one stallion. Erebor is not necessarily one to interrupt an ongoing conversation, but he also believes in choices – and one stallion does not choices make. Determined now, he approaches the two of them, coming upon the group just in time to hear the mare give her name. He offers both of them a polite nod.
At first glance, he looks like most any young stallion in the prime of his life should look. His black coat is vibrant with health and stretched taut over a warrior's defined muscles. But when you look closer, some subtle differences can be seen. His mane and tail are a mix of deep blue and dark green, not black like they should be. And around his left foreleg a strange wine-dark marking stretches, a tribal tattoo intertwining the figure of a rabbit, the figure of a teddy bear, the figure of a Pegasus, and the figure of a strange humanoid creature.
"Pardon the interruption." he offers to both of them, once the stallion has finished speaking. His voice is pleasant, a commander's voice even though he does not command. "I'm Erebor, and I too would like to know if you're looking for a home." his voice is diplomatic, his tones clear and calm. He is entirely at his ease, an interesting contrast perhaps to the two he'd interrupted.
erebor
heat manipulating lord of the chamber
warship x straia
IDK what this is buuuut he wanted to do it :| sorry for interrupting you guys <3