09-27-2015, 09:10 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-27-2015, 09:12 PM by Shahrizai.
Edit Reason: closing tags
)
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
He has been caught up in his grief lately. Too caught up. As he realizes he might truly be in danger of becoming a wallower, he thinks that he needs to do something. Something productive. He’s not a fighter and as far as he knows the Deserts has no diplomatic missions to send him on. And let’s face it, he’d probably be a hardcore failure at stealing someone (he’d probably laugh at the wrong minute and ruin the whole thing). So, for those reasons, he turns to the field.
It is a chilly day today. He always seems to have rotten timing when he makes these trips to the field. If he recalls correctly, one of the last times he’d been here, it had been absolutely frigid then too. And unfortunately his coat is rather thin, having come from the Deserts (which had boasted a quite nice, warm, albeit sandy, breeze). So, ultimately, he hopes to make this a quick trip. Mentally though, he prepares himself for a long haul, because who knows how much convincing and sweet-talking he might have to do. It’s a good thing he’s such a great sweet-talker.
He approaches the field at a rather quick clip, his long legs carrying him easily over the frozen landscape. As he slows his pace, he spots a small mare pacing the fringes of the field. As he watches her, curiosity in his brown gaze, he notes that she appears rather nervous. He wonders at what had caused such uneasiness. This alone induces him to approach. He would very much like to help her if he could (he had always been the helpful sort).
She looks as though she might easily frighten (having been born and raised in a land filled almost entirely with women, he likes to think that he knows them rather well). In deference to her nervousness, he approaches slowly, blocky head lowered so as to pose less of a threat. A smile stretches his lips as he steps forward, an expression that sits easily and comfortably upon his features.
Hello there! I’m Shahrizai, or Shah, if you prefer.
He pauses briefly, hoping his rather exuberant greeting hadn’t frightened her. Sometimes he just can’t seem to help himself.
I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you look like you’ve had a bit of a scare. Are you alright?
It is a chilly day today. He always seems to have rotten timing when he makes these trips to the field. If he recalls correctly, one of the last times he’d been here, it had been absolutely frigid then too. And unfortunately his coat is rather thin, having come from the Deserts (which had boasted a quite nice, warm, albeit sandy, breeze). So, ultimately, he hopes to make this a quick trip. Mentally though, he prepares himself for a long haul, because who knows how much convincing and sweet-talking he might have to do. It’s a good thing he’s such a great sweet-talker.
He approaches the field at a rather quick clip, his long legs carrying him easily over the frozen landscape. As he slows his pace, he spots a small mare pacing the fringes of the field. As he watches her, curiosity in his brown gaze, he notes that she appears rather nervous. He wonders at what had caused such uneasiness. This alone induces him to approach. He would very much like to help her if he could (he had always been the helpful sort).
She looks as though she might easily frighten (having been born and raised in a land filled almost entirely with women, he likes to think that he knows them rather well). In deference to her nervousness, he approaches slowly, blocky head lowered so as to pose less of a threat. A smile stretches his lips as he steps forward, an expression that sits easily and comfortably upon his features.
Hello there! I’m Shahrizai, or Shah, if you prefer.
He pauses briefly, hoping his rather exuberant greeting hadn’t frightened her. Sometimes he just can’t seem to help himself.
I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you look like you’ve had a bit of a scare. Are you alright?
shahrizai
hestoni x scorch