06-11-2015, 01:22 PM
The growing warmth is not quite as noticeable in the distant reaches of the sky as he makes his way south. His wings beat a strong and steady rhythm, carrying him easily through the cloud studded skies. He can see the land slowly changing far below him. From the flat, vast expanse that is the hallmark of the tundra to rolling hills broken occasionally by mountains or flatter prairies and meadows. He can tell immediately when he is nearing the Jungle. The foliage becomes more dense, more vibrant and steam begins to rise into the air.
He had left well after the red and white stallion with whom he was supposed to travel, but his much quicker means of travel and brought him to the edges of the land of women at nearly the same time. His dark eyes catch sight of the stallion moments before he drops from the sky. He lands next to him, hooves sinking quietly into the softer earth.
His speculative gaze scans the fringes of the kingdom, seeking what knowledge he can. He had never before had the opportunity to visit the Jungle, having spent the majority of his life either wandering far off lands or lingering amongst the cold snows of the Tundra. The land is foreign to him, uncomfortably muggy with air thick as a bog. But he pushes those mild discomforts aside easily. Life in the Tundra is certainly not always pleasant or comfortable, which has caused him to learn well how to deal with life’s myriad of weather induced discomforts.
Survey of the thickly forested land complete, he turns his attention Crito beside him. The roan stallion appears tired, the long trek from the north having taken its toll. It’s startling sometimes, to be reminded that most men are not as enduring as he. That most will begin to fade, to falter and stumble, and eventually die. It is a sobering reminder, emphasizing the harsh and cruel nature of life. And perhaps that is why they are here, today, securing an alliance. To make life a little less cruel by ensuring that fewer men and women must die because of the petty vagaries that plague this land.
With that in mind, he returns his focus to the looming jungle and lets out a call to announce their presence.
He had left well after the red and white stallion with whom he was supposed to travel, but his much quicker means of travel and brought him to the edges of the land of women at nearly the same time. His dark eyes catch sight of the stallion moments before he drops from the sky. He lands next to him, hooves sinking quietly into the softer earth.
His speculative gaze scans the fringes of the kingdom, seeking what knowledge he can. He had never before had the opportunity to visit the Jungle, having spent the majority of his life either wandering far off lands or lingering amongst the cold snows of the Tundra. The land is foreign to him, uncomfortably muggy with air thick as a bog. But he pushes those mild discomforts aside easily. Life in the Tundra is certainly not always pleasant or comfortable, which has caused him to learn well how to deal with life’s myriad of weather induced discomforts.
Survey of the thickly forested land complete, he turns his attention Crito beside him. The roan stallion appears tired, the long trek from the north having taken its toll. It’s startling sometimes, to be reminded that most men are not as enduring as he. That most will begin to fade, to falter and stumble, and eventually die. It is a sobering reminder, emphasizing the harsh and cruel nature of life. And perhaps that is why they are here, today, securing an alliance. To make life a little less cruel by ensuring that fewer men and women must die because of the petty vagaries that plague this land.
With that in mind, he returns his focus to the looming jungle and lets out a call to announce their presence.
There is never a day that goes by
that is a good day to die.
Hurricane