Word Count » 3+
There was only a moment's hesitation, before the rumbling of earth told him of the other man's decision. The heavy golden steed he rode was quick to sidle alongside Sirius' black, and while the smaller stallion shied slightly, his initial burst of aggression seemed to be over. Flicking the reigns to keep the beast at a smooth trot, the Thistle King focused half of his attention on the path ahead, and the other half on the man beside him.
Gabrielson's words provoked a grunt of agreement from the dark man. His spies had told of Dahlia's disappearance - A whole pack, gone from beneath the nose of its neighbors. Such a thing was fast to conjure suspicion. Although the flower-named pack had never revealed itself to be a challenge or a threat to the land of the Salsolan, their strange magic act conjured no comradely feelings. "Phoenix Valley, too, has parted ways with their old territory," He spoke in a surprisingly serious tone, oddly brooding without the not of silver, poisonous charm it usually carried, "I assume an alliance, but cannot yet be sure." What this meant for Salsola, he did not know - But such power in the hands of the unknown was never a good thing.
The land grew steeper as they breached the mountains, and once again Sirius was pleasantly surprised at his mount's tenacity. While smaller in size and impressiveness than the Aquila's golden beast, the ebony stallion was as sure-footed in the rocky terrain as it had been the swampy roughness of Salsola. The path grew narrower, and while the Thistle King believed his mount might be able to progress further up the increasingly steep and dangerous trail, he wondered at the abilities of the other's steed. Regardless, horses were not an appropriate method of stealth, and if they were to be unseen and unheard, the beasts would have to be left behind.
Pulling his stallion aside, Sirius dismounted smoothly. "I know this land, Gabrielson. It will be best to travel North from here on foot." As he spoke, he tied the leather reigns about a nearby stump, believing the horse would wander otherwise. Removing another hunting dagger from the saddle, the Thistle King strapped it to his thigh, where it glinted beneath the cured leather. Dull olive eyes, rimmed with sparks of feverishly intelligent sparks, lifted to the Eagle's sharp gold. "I seem to have forgotten my manners - If we are to be together in this, then it is fitting you know my name. I am Sirius Revlis, Boss of Salsola, King to the land of thistles," He smiled sharply again, the wicked grin handsome on dark features.
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