10-17-2009, 12:44 PM
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Hai :]
Word Count: 386
Dawali hummed as he sat atop Belle, one of his favourites among the horses in the stables. He'd trained her himself, and she was young. She also accepted newcomers openly, and was a calming presence to the foals they kept now. He did wonder, sometimes, what they were going to do with all these horses. Every season they bred, and they did not have enough riders. Unlike cattle, he did not feel as if he could just... eat a horse. Well, he could, but he was also so used to using them - like companions, more than prey. Cattle, however, was a wholly new aspect for him, and they looked like big, walking meals. Like a living, fresh storage - how was that not handy?! His thoughts circled the storage, and how dried and salted meat and fish didn't really taste that nice in the winter months —but fresh meat on the other hand... His mouth watered as he let the horse pick a path, carrying him out towards the borders of his tribe. A little adventure, perhaps, while he was thinking about how to rapidly increase his count of cattle from just the bull, to an actual stock. Shouldn't be too hard, if they bred as happily as the horses.
Chilled wind ruffled his feathered mane as Belle carried him along the path, soon reaching the areas where the tribe's scent gradually weakened, replaced by no pack's scent at all. Travel far enough east and the scent would belong to Cour des Miracles, but Dawali was not visiting Jacquez or Svara today. He was riding simpyl to spend time and relax, but his duties called him as he spotted a white figure ahead. His tongue smacked and the horse entered a relaxed trot, approaching the stranger more firmly. Once within a comfortable range of the other, Dawali called out. His voice carried its usual authoritative boom, but his face was mild and and in pleasant folds, even if his posture clearly stated his rank within the lands. "Hello there! May I help you?" The stranger was obviously weary; skinny even (and frail-looking in that sense). He wouldn't be surprised if she sought to join them - after all, the coming cold season could be fatal to a loner, especially one as ill-fed as this one.
Word Count: 386
Dawali hummed as he sat atop Belle, one of his favourites among the horses in the stables. He'd trained her himself, and she was young. She also accepted newcomers openly, and was a calming presence to the foals they kept now. He did wonder, sometimes, what they were going to do with all these horses. Every season they bred, and they did not have enough riders. Unlike cattle, he did not feel as if he could just... eat a horse. Well, he could, but he was also so used to using them - like companions, more than prey. Cattle, however, was a wholly new aspect for him, and they looked like big, walking meals. Like a living, fresh storage - how was that not handy?! His thoughts circled the storage, and how dried and salted meat and fish didn't really taste that nice in the winter months —but fresh meat on the other hand... His mouth watered as he let the horse pick a path, carrying him out towards the borders of his tribe. A little adventure, perhaps, while he was thinking about how to rapidly increase his count of cattle from just the bull, to an actual stock. Shouldn't be too hard, if they bred as happily as the horses.
Chilled wind ruffled his feathered mane as Belle carried him along the path, soon reaching the areas where the tribe's scent gradually weakened, replaced by no pack's scent at all. Travel far enough east and the scent would belong to Cour des Miracles, but Dawali was not visiting Jacquez or Svara today. He was riding simpyl to spend time and relax, but his duties called him as he spotted a white figure ahead. His tongue smacked and the horse entered a relaxed trot, approaching the stranger more firmly. Once within a comfortable range of the other, Dawali called out. His voice carried its usual authoritative boom, but his face was mild and and in pleasant folds, even if his posture clearly stated his rank within the lands. "Hello there! May I help you?" The stranger was obviously weary; skinny even (and frail-looking in that sense). He wouldn't be surprised if she sought to join them - after all, the coming cold season could be fatal to a loner, especially one as ill-fed as this one.