It no longer feels like spring, he thinks, trudging through sand and squinting at the impassively watchful sun. Somewhere between the tick forest and the rippling grass of the plains, the cool breath of wind had been lost. When a breeze did stir, it felt like the dry heat of an open stove. Lucky he’d come here toward evening - and even so he was slick and salty with sweat, the tangled curls of his mane a damp press against his dark neck. Not at his most charming, true — but! he was on an adventure. For the moment, that was excitement enough that he could forget about his normally pristine appearance. He was still new to Novus, only a few days beyond his first initial glimpse of the sea, and if it weren’t for meeting Camdis he’d likely still be nosing about in the meadow, unaware he’d found the Dawn Court. Meeting the mighty stallion, though, had imbued Charlemagne with a confidence he’d never had before. Ergo, he is only a little nervous to exploring on his own, and with every strange cry of a bird or moving shadow on a far-off dune he starts and stares for just a little less long. All the same, he’s decided to head back the way he’s come when first he sees the equine shape top a dune next to his. For a moment he only watches, dipping his golden horn and pricking his ears as the golden mare makes her way across the sand. She makes it look far more effortless than he’s sure he does, but he’s too curious to feel jealous. That same curiosity - and perhaps a measure of loneliness - soon have him crossing over to her, hot sand sinking up to his ankles as he plunges down the dune and up again, a strange ship cresting a strange wave. Charlemagne might have newfound courage, but as soon as draws alongside her, struggling to keep from panting, he finds that he does not have a newfound flair for starting conversation. The young unicorn offers her a shy smile and a dip of his snip-nosed head before his green eyes glance away, seemingly scrutinizing the dunes. “Hello,” he says. “Do you know how far this goes on?” @ |
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