Saphrax was not usually one to be confrontational, but this female was quick to tell him just because he was not a fan of the heat or the cold, that he should find his home elsewhere when the temperature was more stable. He nearly rolled his eyes at her. “You would think that you might want the numbers in your little band of misfits. I have things to offer, though none of you have cared to ask.” He had yet to have anyone come up and introduce themselves to him. In other places he lived, the herds were far more welcoming. It seemed everyone in this group had a chip on their shoulder. He didn’t let it bother him too much, he would show them a little sunshine and smiles to go a long way.
However, despite her unwelcoming demeanor, Saphrax tries his hardest to simply ignore her and follow the rest towards some sort of hunt. He hears something about elk and he wonders when the elk have ever created a blizzard of sorts. He cannot recall them ever doing so in any of his wanderings.
But then the fog lifts and the herd can be seen settled in the valley. It is an interesting sight to behold. There is a voice that pipes up over the crowd asking if anyone knows how to fight them. “Perhaps they die as easily as normal elk…” Although Saphrax knows he has never tried to kill a normal elk before, he supposed a good blow to the head would work if one could get past the antlers.
But then someone is charging and Saphrax’s eyes watch him as he comes forward. While Saphrax has never been a fighter, he supposes he could heard the elk towards the warriors. And so, he takes flight and off he goes to help herd the beasts in the direction of the warriors. His wings beat the cold air and it takes a little more coordination to rise in the cold air, but he is flying and that is all that really matters.
