my touch is power
Though every land Thaeron passed through was in the throes of autumn, trees half-dressed in their colourful adornments, the rest spread far and wide by the biting wind, here he found himself amidst the humid temperatures of a desert.
As far as the eye could see, sand rose and fell in lazy dunes, shadowed by red cliffs towering over all in the distance. Grit clung to the fur of his hooves, painting the blue of his fur with speckles of orange. Bloodbane was strapped across his shoulder and back, a familiar weight even as the metal warmed beneath the sun’s gaze, a sharp bite across his dark skin. Beneath the thick of his hair, sweat clung to his coat, shining and gleaming and annoying. The fallen god would take the cold bite of the Stormy Mountains in Alanaris over the burning lash of the desert sun any day. But Alanaris lay far behind him and this gods-forsaken desert spread out in front. What he wouldn’t give for Valdis’ wings and eyes in the sky right now, checking for threats, searching for a path. Alas, the Stormbringer had remained in Alanaris, prowling the slopes of the mountains, their mental connection severed by the distance between them.
Climbing the gentle rise of a sand dune, his hooves sliding and digging into the sand as it cascaded in his wake, the war-god spots a figure hewn of onyx upon his peripheral. Hooked wings extend from silken shoulders, a gleaming green stone set in a wooden staff catching the light of the sun. Thaeron will not deny the relief that filters through him at the sight of another, particularly given the certainty with which they walk the desert. Picking up his pace the stallion half slides, half trots, down the descent of the dune, silently cursing the sand that climbs its way up his sides with each thump of his feathered hooves upon the ground. Beneath the humid tasting air he detects the scent of the other, a mare he realises once he is close enough to discern her features from the shadow of her coat.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a map would you?” The joke is accompanied by a charming grin and a chuckle once he is close enough for the deep timbre of his voice to carry, falling into the determined rhythm of her steps a few metres to her left.
@Lucinda hope you don't mind me throwing Thaeron in here
