07-17-2016, 01:51 PM
Now, most stallions who fancied themselves soldiers would most likely boast that they noticed her straight away, despite the fog and the general misery of the weather. They would say something like: 'My hawk-like eyes saw her straight away, because I am a soldier and soldiers never let their guards down and they never do anything that could even be remotely considered stupid, because I am awesome, and also perfect'. Alas, Romek's heart does not beat to the same valiant song that theirs does, and he hadn't even noticed her until she had spoken to him. He looks up and takes her in, the drenched golden skin, the white-gold of her mane and tail, and her eyes of sapphire/azure skies.
"You're awfully womanly to be hailing from the Tundra, Maribel." he says, tilting his head. Of course, back in his day, there had been women in the Tundra, but he didn't really expect them to try to bring new members back to the kingdom. As far as he knew, they were to carry on the lines and raise children. Did they ever try to recruit? He did not know. His corner of this world was a sandy one, where not very much happened, except for when it did, and then it all happened at once. "Pissed someone off, trying to impress someone...?"
She makes a comment on the weather, which the spotted stallion chooses to ignore (of course the rain was persistent, the confirmation of her comment was literally soaked into his skin). "Romek, from nowhere." - Although that wasn't strictly true, but he thought he'd spare the pretty mare his entire life story, lest she fall asleep from boredom. "I'm here looking for somewhere to live, obviously, and somewhere where I might be useful in some way. I'm not exactly one for an easy life." And the evidence was criss-crossed across his body in the form of scars from wars, battles, disagreements. "I'm not a talker. But I'm honest, and I can hit things really hard." He says dryly, a slight gleam of humour in his golden eyes, his sire's eyes.
For a 'not-a-talker' he was doing a lot of talking. Romek hated this business of selling himself, but there was no point playing the mysterious man and going somewhere he didn't want to go, where he would end up just eating and sleeping himself to death. He stops here, looking at her, waiting for her.
"You're awfully womanly to be hailing from the Tundra, Maribel." he says, tilting his head. Of course, back in his day, there had been women in the Tundra, but he didn't really expect them to try to bring new members back to the kingdom. As far as he knew, they were to carry on the lines and raise children. Did they ever try to recruit? He did not know. His corner of this world was a sandy one, where not very much happened, except for when it did, and then it all happened at once. "Pissed someone off, trying to impress someone...?"
She makes a comment on the weather, which the spotted stallion chooses to ignore (of course the rain was persistent, the confirmation of her comment was literally soaked into his skin). "Romek, from nowhere." - Although that wasn't strictly true, but he thought he'd spare the pretty mare his entire life story, lest she fall asleep from boredom. "I'm here looking for somewhere to live, obviously, and somewhere where I might be useful in some way. I'm not exactly one for an easy life." And the evidence was criss-crossed across his body in the form of scars from wars, battles, disagreements. "I'm not a talker. But I'm honest, and I can hit things really hard." He says dryly, a slight gleam of humour in his golden eyes, his sire's eyes.
For a 'not-a-talker' he was doing a lot of talking. Romek hated this business of selling himself, but there was no point playing the mysterious man and going somewhere he didn't want to go, where he would end up just eating and sleeping himself to death. He stops here, looking at her, waiting for her.