THIS ISN'T A TEST / palm glades

[LETHE ELD-CIPHER]

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Gifts? He likes gifts. His flight is shaky, and so instead the wyvern finds himself walking along at the smell of foreign group in the air. Or, at least, he suspect it to be foreign. The same faint scent of the shore (something he had carried before arriving in the Typhoon), the sharpness of sand, the salt of the sea. The noise helped the wyvern narrow down his trot to find the person on the border. Near a bell. How hadn't he noticed that bell before? That thought was quite humorous to him, and brought a smile to his face as he approached.

"Food gits? These are lovely," Jotunhel cooed, leaning his head down to inspect the gifts. "Very generous. Mind if I take a closer look?" He asked as he pulled his strained wing closer, helping him bend down to get a bit more eye level with the newly appointed leader of a foreign land. "Oh, my name's Jotunhel. Can I get a name for the one bringing these gracious gifts? You look wonderful, by the way, very healthy," he continued, snout twitching as he sniffed at the basket of delicious goodies.

jotunhel ._. wyvern ._. tags

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