Everywhere he went, this summer heat was basically baking the landscape. He even wandered far past the borders of the desert that was Solterra (Or was it Day? Which damn name was it, anywho?); the heat still sucked the moisture from his lips. Thus, he took shelter in the best area he knew (or rather, could find): an underground cave, nestled into some unknown plain on the edge of the Desert. It dug down deep into the dirt, winding down until the shadows overtook the light.
In the distance, he heard the rolling rumble of thunder. He swore he heard it earlier, except much, much farther away.. And for a moment, he grew concerned. Should it rain too heavily, this little innocuous grotto might be at risk for flooding... his eyes instinctively looked up to the mouth of the cave, which was a gentle slope up from where he was. Eyes narrowed, and he blew a hot breath from his nostrils. I'm sure it won't be that bad.
So he stayed, nestled alongside a large boulder near the cave's mouth. Back legs tucked underneath him, forelegs rested neatly by his chest, he relaxed. For the first time in a long while, he was able to unwind enough to allow the cavity's spines to crack open. The drop in air pressure made his chest feel tight, so it was a nice reprieve to be able to allow it to 'air out,' per se.
In all honesty, he planned on falling asleep to the sweet sound of the storm. But that want quickly vanished as a screaming mess of tiny wings, white fur, and black spots came careening into the cave. Torstein jerked his head up, ears flying upwards and eyes wide - he wholly expected her to go crashing into a wall or something. He stared at her, shocked, instead of the other way around. The monsoon occurring outside the cave didn't even seem to phase him.
She didn't even seem to notice him, what with all her huffing (which might as well be sobbing, by how frantic she seemed). His jaw might have been slack - he didn't even know anymore... but that familiar, tiny, shivering mess still hasn't seen him yet. She must be very unobservant, or scared shitless. Or both? For a moment, the thought to close the spines on his chest crossed his mind. However, Tor quickly dismissed the notion... because truthfully, it wasn't like he was the least bit threatened by the fluffy, exasperated mess of a mare.
"Uh, are you okay...?" he questioned, dragging out the end of his sentence incredulously.
Action. Thoughts. "Speech."
@Araxes! <3
↤ Reference Image - - chest cavity: OPEN - - 434 words - - code Ⓒ inkbone ↦
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I have three eyes
TWO TO LOOK ONE TO SEE
