LYSANDROS
they'll wait to tear your wounds open...
they'll wait to tear your wounds open...
Lysandros had spent the better half of his time in this strange place stumbling around without a clue as to where to go. Spat from the portals of a dying world and into one that made no sense to him. It was at least less dizzying than his previous home, there were no winding paths that trapped him inside until someone came to free him. His large frame moved through the underbrush of the flora with some difficulty. If it wasn't a branch scraping along his side, it was his sight obscured by a copse of leaves and losing his footing. The slate soldier had yet to find anyone willing to really converse with him beyond the portals where he was found. Most didn't pay him any mind or gave him a wide berth. The bronc found himself following a creek somewhere out in these unfamiliar wilds as night was beginning to creep across the sky.
As he moved beside the creek bed he spotted a strange white object that was a stark contrast to the grays and vivid greens that lined this brook. Beside the water on the opposite banks stood another equine. They were a colour, unlike his slate gray and vibrant orange hues. Lysandros was said to have been born from the violently churning magma deep beneath the mountains of his homeland. Instead, this stranger was adorned with trinkets of red, gold, and blue. A feather was placed carefully in their hair. They were brown striped, and ivory with bound hair and red paint. That was the colour that stood out the most to Lysandros as he approached from the opposite side of the creek.
Then it was their blue eyes that he met with his own molten orange ones. His eyes drifted to the strange marble creature and let his gaze linger on it. Would it be safer to camp for the night with a stranger than to try and tough it out alone? The slate soldier didn't know much about the dangers of this new world yet, perhaps it wouldn't be the worst idea ever. "Traveller, can you tell me what this place is? I've just been spat out of the portals from someplace else." He called out to them, knowing that vulnerability in a strange place could get you killed. Lysandros wasn't worried though, he'd brought down larger creatures than this stranger in his time. "Mind if I join you for a bit?" He called across the creek again. If they denied him company, he'd simply move on down the creek until he found civilization.
@Antiope
Sorry for the wait <3
As he moved beside the creek bed he spotted a strange white object that was a stark contrast to the grays and vivid greens that lined this brook. Beside the water on the opposite banks stood another equine. They were a colour, unlike his slate gray and vibrant orange hues. Lysandros was said to have been born from the violently churning magma deep beneath the mountains of his homeland. Instead, this stranger was adorned with trinkets of red, gold, and blue. A feather was placed carefully in their hair. They were brown striped, and ivory with bound hair and red paint. That was the colour that stood out the most to Lysandros as he approached from the opposite side of the creek.
Then it was their blue eyes that he met with his own molten orange ones. His eyes drifted to the strange marble creature and let his gaze linger on it. Would it be safer to camp for the night with a stranger than to try and tough it out alone? The slate soldier didn't know much about the dangers of this new world yet, perhaps it wouldn't be the worst idea ever. "Traveller, can you tell me what this place is? I've just been spat out of the portals from someplace else." He called out to them, knowing that vulnerability in a strange place could get you killed. Lysandros wasn't worried though, he'd brought down larger creatures than this stranger in his time. "Mind if I join you for a bit?" He called across the creek again. If they denied him company, he'd simply move on down the creek until he found civilization.
@Antiope
Sorry for the wait <3
