For this child of the Jungle, born and growing amongst its tropical landscape and steamy temperatures, stepping hoof into the snowy reaches of the Tundra was proving rather unpleasant. Roe is beginning to suspect that he has picked the *worst* possible time of year to take it into his head to indulge his wanderlust, but lifts his rapidly less-red shoulders in a shrug. It's too late to turn back now, he's already here and might as well seek out the male kin that Dorne had mentioned to her children on a few occasions before her departure. And hope that they were amiable to the possibility of Yronwood relocating and becoming one of their brotherhood. He had no issues with the Amazon ladies, his beloved twin sister was even one of them after all. But as a male, he had no real rank there, could not gain one either. What would he end up doing if he chose to stay in the Jungle? Would he end up claimed by one of the sisters, to father children with her?
He and the few other males that lived in the Jungle were not slaves of course, but the lengthy matriarchal bloodline of his sister's friend Nayl, for example, had not sprung up from nowhere.....the Amazons couldn't make babies all on their own, and he wanted to be able to be free to have a mate or not, as he chose, as long as that mate was willing of course. Did the Tundra keep a harem of mares? That didn't seem very equal either. He could always seek out a companion from outside whatever land he ended up calling home...Anyway, there was no point in having such a debate with himself right now. He decides that he's struggled along in the knee-deep winter snow far enough, and stops to be spotted and greeted. He calls out, not in a demanding tone, simply in a "Hello, I'm here. ", fashion. Blinking rapidly to try and keep the snowflakes out of his eyes, he wishes that he had the ability to instantly thicken his coat against what is to him, biting cold. The spotted boy is just glad that his red and white body is too busy shivering to produce any of the random, post-nightmare shudders that continued to plague his waking hours. A member of the brotherhood would understand their visitor's shivering, but if they were to witness him unpredictably shaking like he'd been electrocuted, they'd probably think there was a cog or two missing in his brain.
He and the few other males that lived in the Jungle were not slaves of course, but the lengthy matriarchal bloodline of his sister's friend Nayl, for example, had not sprung up from nowhere.....the Amazons couldn't make babies all on their own, and he wanted to be able to be free to have a mate or not, as he chose, as long as that mate was willing of course. Did the Tundra keep a harem of mares? That didn't seem very equal either. He could always seek out a companion from outside whatever land he ended up calling home...Anyway, there was no point in having such a debate with himself right now. He decides that he's struggled along in the knee-deep winter snow far enough, and stops to be spotted and greeted. He calls out, not in a demanding tone, simply in a "Hello, I'm here. ", fashion. Blinking rapidly to try and keep the snowflakes out of his eyes, he wishes that he had the ability to instantly thicken his coat against what is to him, biting cold. The spotted boy is just glad that his red and white body is too busy shivering to produce any of the random, post-nightmare shudders that continued to plague his waking hours. A member of the brotherhood would understand their visitor's shivering, but if they were to witness him unpredictably shaking like he'd been electrocuted, they'd probably think there was a cog or two missing in his brain.