paint it black; any

[Lior]

dark son of gunsynd

He is a big ole grumpy bastard. He isn't exactly known to smile or laugh. And that doesn't change now either as the rather young mare seems to just exude some sort of playful coyness. The dark eyes of our all seeing Lior catch as she flinches against his words. His intent is none other than to get down to business but he can sense she is the joker, the class clown. Well...Lior is as funny as slipping and falling on your ass at your wedding. Simply put, he isn't. Well now, "The Tundra." He cuts her off and considers this place quietly as he has heard of the frozen desert but it is a woman who approaches. How very odd. Lior looks her over. She is scrawny, puny next to him. It is also when she is reeling back that he he watches her stumble before she attempts to throw some iron welded words at him. The large male simply walks towards her and -boops- her on her poll with his whiskered muzzle before moving passed her and ignoring her question. "C'mon, Igni, let's go." Lior tosses the porcelain and gold stallion a glance over the broad withers as he moves along, leading the mare if she decides to get her self together and follows him. LIOR