Rendari were certainly not what one might consider tall, and in a cross-section Raymond would not have been considered among their largest members, but strength and size were non-issues in a group whose greatest assets lay in strategy and agility. A good rendari soldier never spoiled for a fight, but was always ready to finish one when it broke out.
Raymond wondered more often than not exactly how good of a Rendari soldier he could even pretend to be anymore, and in that exercise perhaps he and the painted stallion could share common ground. The may have been a far cry from calling himself an orphan, but he could never quite escape the heavy stole of what came before, of being a horse with neither name nor country, in whose heart the idea of loyalty seemed both sacred dream and the height of juvenile foolishness.
Careful, it’s been a short-lived position lately.
He quirked a brow, shamelessly wearing the chuckle that followed. Yeah, he might have said, you should have seen how short-lived Terrastella's Champion of Battle was, but he didn't. Instead, with a knowing tilt of his head and an almost lackadaisical sweep of his blade, "I try to be."
He did try, but perhaps in the grand scheme of things there would come a day when he would find himself glad that he was far more invested in Raymond the Ranger than the still-alien idea of Raymond the Regent. One of the two had survived a decade of hard time; the other earned his laurels by frightening a traumatized slave girl once.
"Is this what we're looking for?" the red stallion asked, approaching a rough edge gleaming amongst the rubble. As he kicked at it with one careful hoof, the luminous stone came tumbling free, sand and stone falling away into a yawning mouth where it had rested. Raymond frowned. "Huh. Interesting."
Raymond wondered more often than not exactly how good of a Rendari soldier he could even pretend to be anymore, and in that exercise perhaps he and the painted stallion could share common ground. The may have been a far cry from calling himself an orphan, but he could never quite escape the heavy stole of what came before, of being a horse with neither name nor country, in whose heart the idea of loyalty seemed both sacred dream and the height of juvenile foolishness.
Careful, it’s been a short-lived position lately.
He quirked a brow, shamelessly wearing the chuckle that followed. Yeah, he might have said, you should have seen how short-lived Terrastella's Champion of Battle was, but he didn't. Instead, with a knowing tilt of his head and an almost lackadaisical sweep of his blade, "I try to be."
He did try, but perhaps in the grand scheme of things there would come a day when he would find himself glad that he was far more invested in Raymond the Ranger than the still-alien idea of Raymond the Regent. One of the two had survived a decade of hard time; the other earned his laurels by frightening a traumatized slave girl once.
"Is this what we're looking for?" the red stallion asked, approaching a rough edge gleaming amongst the rubble. As he kicked at it with one careful hoof, the luminous stone came tumbling free, sand and stone falling away into a yawning mouth where it had rested. Raymond frowned. "Huh. Interesting."
Raymond.
"he's an outlaw loose and runnin'," came the whisper from each lip
"and he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip."
"he's an outlaw loose and runnin'," came the whisper from each lip
"and he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip."
@Acton
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
