06-18-2011, 05:13 PM
Saluce had returned sometime that night, the encounter the previous day had left him a bit exhausted but the deed was still left unfinished for the proud warrior. His armor had gained some of its first battle scars the day before from the curved blade used against him. All in all his prey had been inexperienced and he could have easily finished him off if it wasn’t for that interloper that came to end their battle. The mountain was for all purposes an impregnable fortress and he knew it. For now though he had resumed his normal day to day duties, and hoped to avoid questions as to his actions the day before.
As always he road along the borders high atop his mighty war horse. Its own facial expression mirroring its rider stone faced and easily irritated. Saluce was sore, and the ride was more pleasant than walking, his armor was still worn as always, the blood having been cleaned from it. Generally his mood was still sour; having been a madman murderer in his own right while young, his own path had lead him to Dahlia and he had found a purpose here, but still old ways died hard. Having the knowledge and the ability to be a bastion of good, while keeping his dirty past kept firmly in the past and moving forward.
So it was no surprise that his hackles rose in response to the presence that called out to pack in greeting. He urged his horse onward to the call to perform the duties he always delighted in.
The horse trotted a few feet away from the caller, before stopping as the male looked down on the wolf with a skeptical eye. The mountain was always a terrible greeter, so he sat there for a few moments attaining the physical cues given to him about this wolfs heritage.
“Bonjour, I am Saluce Tremblay of Dahlia de Mai, what is your business here today?”
As always he road along the borders high atop his mighty war horse. Its own facial expression mirroring its rider stone faced and easily irritated. Saluce was sore, and the ride was more pleasant than walking, his armor was still worn as always, the blood having been cleaned from it. Generally his mood was still sour; having been a madman murderer in his own right while young, his own path had lead him to Dahlia and he had found a purpose here, but still old ways died hard. Having the knowledge and the ability to be a bastion of good, while keeping his dirty past kept firmly in the past and moving forward.
So it was no surprise that his hackles rose in response to the presence that called out to pack in greeting. He urged his horse onward to the call to perform the duties he always delighted in.
The horse trotted a few feet away from the caller, before stopping as the male looked down on the wolf with a skeptical eye. The mountain was always a terrible greeter, so he sat there for a few moments attaining the physical cues given to him about this wolfs heritage.
“Bonjour, I am Saluce Tremblay of Dahlia de Mai, what is your business here today?”