Vadar
Seven characteristics are in an uncultivated person, and seven in a learned one
Interesting, the black stallion thinks to himself. For a passing few minutes he’d been edging closer to the common area where horses went to be recruited, leaving the Riverlands behind him and finding that he wasn’t very sad about that fact. There wasn’t much going on in the outer fringes of Beqanna society these days, especially since the Mountain had cracked herself open wide. Now everyone was more like himself, sick and panicking while scrambling for a solution to the problem they’d created themselves. Vadar saw it everywhere he went nowadays, but couldn’t exactly find the energy to care anymore.
What he did care about currently was the sight he’d just witnessed, traveling through a passing summer storm and getting to watch the last few moments of another stallion toying with powers that faintly resembled Vadar’s. The heavy sheets of rain had soaked what little skin was left on the clown-horse’s body, making him irritated enough to hold still, and then the faint rumble of shifting earth had kept him standing in one place, at full alert. He’d gazed up through the dark rain with red, glowing eyes and watched Aziz shape the ground beneath him into a dome.
Interesting, was what he thought. Then “Excuse me!” slipped out when the dry male had stepped forward into the sunlight to walk away. “Excuse me,” he tried again, stepping up behind the larger stallion, “noticed your handiwork back there. Pretty neat trick.” Vadar huffed out. It was a bit hard to keep up with the longer gait, but up until this point he hadn’t come across another creator.
There was so much to learn that they could teach each other. That is, if this other character was the willing type. “Not to bug you or anything but do you, uh, do that kind of thing often?” The smaller, black male questioned.
@[Aziz]