Hura Hoj! (Royce)

[Hudsdale]

Inako. A wasteland for some. A playground for others.

Dana never passed up an opportunity to enjoy his time. He didn't visit the scrubs of the desert too often - he loved the dunes too much. Then again, it was always good to have a little bit of variety, was it not? Plus, he was the tiniest bit afraid of the ocean, so Epery was never an option.

The fleabitten grey stallion shook his neck with the utmost care, certain not to let a single hair stray from the rest as it settled down on one side. His forelock fell back with the rest of his mane as his white tail swished calmly over his hocks as he shuffled through the scrubby landscape, careful not to actually touch any of the threatening-looking plants as he passed by them. He began to play a little game with himself as he walked. Dana imagined what such plants would taste like. Lowering his head, the stallion took a whiff of the least disagreeable brush, less than eager to take a bite. It was so dry. Crunching up the bit he'd torn off, Dana was sure the taste, however subtle, would not leave for a good long time. Luckily for him, living his life in the desert, his body had adapted to eating little and making the most out of what he did ingest. As such, his frame though muscled, was delicate and rather petite for one of his sex.

Dana was not ashamed of his appearance. In fact, he was rather proud. He took such pride in keeping himself as presentable as possible... It gave a lone stallion something to think about as he trotted through life in the sandy desert with his tail raised and his ears perked. One would be hard stressed to find another equine as happy-spirited as Dana had always been.

[Snowfrost]

ROYCE.

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Tromp-a-tromp tromp.

Tromp-a-ti-tromp-a-tromp tromp tromp.

Tromp tromp fshhhhhhhh.

A melody rang in the ears of a particularly foolish youth as the motions of movement echoed along the walls of sand. The waves and ripples of land vibrated along the horizon of where orange met blue, and yet nothing of the heat seemed to bother the dark youth. Head held high, eyes closed to the beams of light that poured over him and the lands, the colt trotted leisurely through the wasteland of many -- a graveyard of clay under glistening sands.

Winds would bring up storms every now and again, waves of glittering parts of Inako that washed over everything along the floor of it. How it fascinated him, how it simply made him stop in his tracks so he would witness the splendor of danger and hopelessness for those beneath the orange ocean's waves.

He continued picking up his knees as he trotted onward, sweat drenching his coat but cooling him off at the same time. With every slip, the sands clutched to his fur, mottling his coat and making him a spectacle to see. But the youth didn't mind, didn't have a care in the world. He was too far out of his senses, lost in his youth and foolishness to understand the dangers of living where he was. It mattered not, however, to Royce.

After a couple of miles running around blindly, the colt opened his eyes and peered through slits and squints at the never-ending and never-motionless land he called home. Each step could mean being along the sands or below the sea, but the thought of such never occurred in his ever-growing mind. Perhaps it was the lack of water or food, or perhaps it truly could be blamed on his youth and foolishness. Whatever the case, nothing seemed to be wrong in the image of himself tromping around the lands of Inako. Nothing, nothing of the sort.

He seemed nearly pleased, even, because the scenery in and of itself was something he found fascinating at times. Not that it took much to fascinate the lad, but that was another fact entirely. As he strolled around without a care, however, while his vision remained useful, Royce found something that failed to move with the sands. Slowing his face, erecting his neck and ears, the colt gazed on in pure wonder at the possibilities. His hazed mind's imagination rocketed from that point, the possibilities of the source being endless to him.

He wasn't far from the foreigner, not far at all. Mere meters, even, if the sands were being kind to him on this day. But then again, to a colt merely a yearling himself, nothing seemed too daunting when it was completely irrational a task to take on and successfully reach.

Sharply stopping, Royce tossed his head a few times with a couple of raspy whinnies before rearing and bolting off toward the strange movements. His breathing was labored, his body straining, the danger of his own life being heightened with each step and action forward -- but it never occurred to the youth, never was he aware.

One of a fool's pure heart and youth, Royce went without a vile thought shadowing his mind. Mustering up as loud a call as possible, at just the right moment when the sands died down and the voices could echo and travel, the colt belted out his own tune toward the stranger in hopes he'd be recognized. Whatever it could be, Royce was determined to find out. He paid no mind to the strains on his body, even when he knew he was tiring. The pure excitement alone was enough to make him forget everything the normal horse would worry for. Oh, this colt was a mother's worst nightmare, and a father's heart attack.

ooc; First post with Royce, and already he's gonna get himself killed xDDD Sorry for making you wait, again >< and he's a lil... eh. Working out the kinks with him. xD;

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