10-15-2015, 12:54 PM
It seems almost inevitable that he would end up here. He spends far more time lingering on the edges of the field than he cares to admit. But it is rare that he actually finds anything worth noting, much less another worth approaching. Today is another long, tedious day filled with nothing of note, though he still lingers along the edges of the field, invisible to the prying eyes of those who frequent this place. In all probability, there is no need for him to be invisible. But the Tundra seems to have enemies these days. The theft of Tarnished is all too fresh in his memory. As far as Hurricane is concerned, better safe than sorry.
The Tundra needs new brothers. Not just warm bodies, but those willing to put their back into it and fight for the land. That is why he is here, even though he recognizes the chances of finding such a man here are very slim.
But today his patience pays off. As the sun is just beginning to set, staining the cloud studded sky with brilliant hues of orange, red, and purple, he wanders into sight. He appears strong and able, holding himself slightly aloof from the other denizens of the field, not seeking out their company. Excellent. The Tundra needs strong men who don’t need to be coddled all the time.
Now comes the hard part.
Stepping forward, his pale body becomes visible in one swift motion. He doesn’t particularly wish to frighten the man after all. Although he doesn’t look as though he would be easily frightened. All the better.
Settling his feathered wings against his sides, he joins the stranger where he stands idly. Hurricane offers him a nod of greeting, piercing black eyes studying the fellow with unwavering intensity.
”I am Hurricane.” He pauses a moment. It wouldn’t do to be rude to the man. Terse he might be, but he can manage manners when he wants to. ”And you?”
The Tundra needs new brothers. Not just warm bodies, but those willing to put their back into it and fight for the land. That is why he is here, even though he recognizes the chances of finding such a man here are very slim.
But today his patience pays off. As the sun is just beginning to set, staining the cloud studded sky with brilliant hues of orange, red, and purple, he wanders into sight. He appears strong and able, holding himself slightly aloof from the other denizens of the field, not seeking out their company. Excellent. The Tundra needs strong men who don’t need to be coddled all the time.
Now comes the hard part.
Stepping forward, his pale body becomes visible in one swift motion. He doesn’t particularly wish to frighten the man after all. Although he doesn’t look as though he would be easily frightened. All the better.
Settling his feathered wings against his sides, he joins the stranger where he stands idly. Hurricane offers him a nod of greeting, piercing black eyes studying the fellow with unwavering intensity.
”I am Hurricane.” He pauses a moment. It wouldn’t do to be rude to the man. Terse he might be, but he can manage manners when he wants to. ”And you?”
There is never a day that goes by
that is a good day to die.
Hurricane
