IT MUST BE LONELY
when you're up there looking down
It isn't as if she is silent.
Despite his bulk and his blind eye, Leviathan has become all too aware of his surroundings over the many years of his existence, over the on and off of his immortality, forever etching him in stone and no longer allowing him to age. He comes off as simply a bulky warrior, but he has too many years notched under his belt to be so foolish to not notice when someone is following him.
It isn't as if she's being terribly sneaky, either.
His hooves beat the solid ground with steady clicks, sounds that echo heavier than those around him just due to his vast size, and his ears swivel, rotating back to catch the sound of hoofbeats running up on him. He knows Solterra is a war driven herd, but no one attacks one another out of nowhere. So he doesn't even tense up, he only puffs out the snort of a breath as he hears a voice following him, and wrinkles his nose just a little bit.
Of course he would find himself somewhat bothered. It isn't as if the shack is all that discreet; no one has touched it in ages, so it draws attention when someone has big as him slips into it ( he remembers a time where the doorway actually caught on his bulk ) and then back out.
"I don't have any family, kid. But yeah, it's mine. Or used to be." He supposes he can still call it his, once he uncovers the old Teryr bones and skull, places it as decoration once again. Deep down, Leviathan is still a warrior, born and bred to fight, but making weapons is better than pittering around with nothing else to do than get into hotheaded fights.
He feels too old for that shit most days. "And who're you?"
Despite his bulk and his blind eye, Leviathan has become all too aware of his surroundings over the many years of his existence, over the on and off of his immortality, forever etching him in stone and no longer allowing him to age. He comes off as simply a bulky warrior, but he has too many years notched under his belt to be so foolish to not notice when someone is following him.
It isn't as if she's being terribly sneaky, either.
His hooves beat the solid ground with steady clicks, sounds that echo heavier than those around him just due to his vast size, and his ears swivel, rotating back to catch the sound of hoofbeats running up on him. He knows Solterra is a war driven herd, but no one attacks one another out of nowhere. So he doesn't even tense up, he only puffs out the snort of a breath as he hears a voice following him, and wrinkles his nose just a little bit.
Of course he would find himself somewhat bothered. It isn't as if the shack is all that discreet; no one has touched it in ages, so it draws attention when someone has big as him slips into it ( he remembers a time where the doorway actually caught on his bulk ) and then back out.
"I don't have any family, kid. But yeah, it's mine. Or used to be." He supposes he can still call it his, once he uncovers the old Teryr bones and skull, places it as decoration once again. Deep down, Leviathan is still a warrior, born and bred to fight, but making weapons is better than pittering around with nothing else to do than get into hotheaded fights.
He feels too old for that shit most days. "And who're you?"
@Sabrina
