[ Respond | Solira: The Ocean ]
Posted by Kratos; on January 22, 2009, 7:05 pm, in reply to "Welcome to Oblivion" K R A T O S
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Kratos hates when Alshain’s in war mode. He’s seen it only a couple of times in his lifetime. It means his father starts swooping to and fro like some possessed overly-jacked bird, and he starts yelling at Kratos to go running with him in the morning, and expecting Kratos to help out, and all that other crap that Kratos wants no part in.
Yes, he is a warrior. Yes, he likes fighting. No, he does not like any of the other warriors. No, he does not like any of Solira’s other residence that he is not directly related to (and even that’s no guarantee.)
His duties should end with the ass-kicking he deals in Blitzkrieg. But no. Not according to his father.
He stands in the ocean, and the languid waves roll at his hooves, idly. The only thing that Kratos has going for him, I’ve got to say, is looks; jet-black, seventeen hands high, glossy and muscular, it can be said that Kratos is only kept around because he’s fun to look at. His personality does not bring any redeeming qualities to the table.
He notices a new horse, mostly because the big stallion seems to be talking to himself. Kratos swivels an ear towards him.
Well, Kratos is sort of standing in the way, and as he’s got no present intentions of moving he might as well say something.
“Actually, the dogs of war attacked Ni’Srilan a couple months ago. I’d rather you not call them here, thanks.” his tone is somewhere between sarcastic and utterly disaffected.
His Wind, his birthright at its full power, wallows somewhere around his legs.
“And if we waged war against anywhere right now, we’d get our asses handed to us on a silver platter.”
Welcome to Solira.
eaglestrike
AIR III
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