EVERYONE LOOKS SO BEAUTIFUL | visitor

[teef]

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" I'D LIKE TO KNOW WHERE PEOPLE GO WHEN THEY DIE! "

She knew not what drew her in the direction of Tanglewood, but she could only assume it was the same thing that had her out and about in the main territories. Breath stirring the short whiskers on her muzzle, mane drifting into her eyes with each gale of wind. Snorting her dislike, the unicorn paused in her trek, shaking herself out. Dark pelt shook, muscles twitching under her skin as she took a few moments to take in her surroundings, waging the danger that would face her to trek further into the swamplands.

Making a disgusted expression, the armored mare continued on as mud squished under her hooves, blue eyes shining with distaste for the smell and feel of the swamp. She was here to figure out who these people were, and if there was anyone she could recruit to her ragtag band of sellswords, to the Horde. Not that it was the main objective. No, she wanted to figure out who these swamp dwellers were with their recent fame and rumors as shit-stirrers.

Metal clanking on itself as she came up to the border, the clydesdale mare halting there. She could practically taste the groups border markers. "My name is Caldenth Halycone. I would like to ask a few questions to the citizens of this group, if possible. I come searching for others of my ... ilk." Better to have some honesty in her words than none at all. She would like to see who defended this group.

[GAWAIN]

impatient they start, fearful they end

He had long given up on finding the Knights of his Order. Especially after the one he loved left for another man. Drowning himself in his memories, he had started to wear the armor again, became a ghost in the swamp. Red's casual talk with him, mourning what could have been for both of them was comforting. Even if she never delved into her past like he did, all his glorious fights and wonderous friends. She had only mentioned her princesshood. But other than that, nothing came from the serval.

He approached Caldenth, his own metal armor clanking and rubbing against his hidden scales along his feet and legs, dragon-head helmet hiding his face save for his cold red eyes. He glared at the clydesdale, wings flexing. "O' knight, you may find those of your Ilk here, but you may not find friends." He certainly hadn't.

#psy.