Why the Gods he had chosen to come out into a giant field in the middle of the bloody day was completely beyond him. Not that he hates the sun, nor does he feel confined to the secrecy of night. He's an assassin, not a ninja for bloody sake. Still, choosing to explore this new home in the middle of the day was not normally an ideal circumstance. A disgruntled huff slips out as he shakes his head at his sorry ass. So he wanders through the fields, looking very much like the predator he is. He might have made an effort to blend in, except there's no blending in with a giant open field and all the solitude one could hope for. So instead, stalking like he owns the place and acting like he could easily end any life he wants to is just the image he wants to project. Stalwart sergeant, prowling predator - stay away. But it turns out he's not alone. Not for long at least. And who is this sorry soul? The thought strolls through. He sees a buckskin creature standing, apparently lost in thought as it stood still, then disappear in the tall grasses as it lay down. Anonymous travels closer, nostrils widening to take in the smells around him. A stallion smelling of pine tar, smoke, a whiff of the sea perhaps? A denizen of Terrastella. He stops not far off, but not within sight while the beast remained down. There's no reason I HAVE to introduce myself. I'm not here to make friends. But still he stays. Turquoise and gold eyes remain trained on the stallion as he listens for anything that might be mused aloud. And if the buckskin chooses to stand again, or even just lift his head from the grass, and spot Anonymous.... Well then introductions can be made. But Anonymous will not initiate. |