05-11-2018, 07:25 PM
August liked stories. He remembered the ones they'd passed down in his herd, the ones his friends had told him, the ones he himself had been a part of. His parents had never told him fairytales, most of those stories had all been stories of survival and how the world worked, but when he'd first met his old friends, they'd told him so many stories. Stories of princesses and heroes, things a child would enjoy, things that he, as an adult, had enjoyed.
So, August walks over, his hooves clicking lightly on the ground as he does so. He lowers himself onto the floor nearby Jacob and folds his legs underneath him. There wasn't anything to say, really, and August didn't care to try and think of something to say anyways, so he stayed quiet and stared expectantly towards Pierce.
"SPEECH"