05-29-2018, 07:52 PM
He'd ponder it for moons and suns. Nearly thirty passes, and a full rotation of moon phases. The Shrine to their god was humming in life. The Orian could feel the call in his blood. He'd consider seeking attendence with the Orian God each passing season, yet it was this day that he informed Tundris of his endevour, and left Karashi Range. There were a few charms the buck hoped to gain in his lifetme, and as he wandered trails and paths through field and forest, he weighed his options and their benefits for Arklov. The options were endless, and if he were successful in the trial, his herd would certainly be better off. It is what he wished. Perhaps any future fawns he created would be bestowed with a gift he earned from Eidolon. Siberna was uncertain if such a possiblity could occur, but why should he not hope for the best?
His wanderlust was building, and Siberna enjoyed his leisure adventure to the throes of the Shrine. The sun's heat wasn't too obtrustive, yet it was stifling compared to the range he was used to thriving in. Any chance the buck recieved to rub his sides upon rough bark and free up tuffs of his winter pelt, he did so with gusto. His antlers held tightly to his skull, for he was a fortunate one, and his anters remained as his helm throughout the year.
Rushing waters and flowing marshes consumed the Thambai. Typically Siberna left the range, restless, after the rainy season. He'd yet to witness the beauty and power bestowed upon the grasslands by the rain. He paused in knee deep mash water, observing the vast beauty in awe. Hues of green, red, brown, and blue mingled and spread in abundance. Siberna inhaled new grass shoots and muddy water. In his solitude, the buck suddenly bound forward and landed in a splash. A playful smile tugged his lips as he performed another aerial bound, landing in chest deep water with another massive wave.
He calmed as he traversed, careful with his steps, and soaking in the sights. At first he did not see the buck standing upon a wide patch of soggy ground. It was the musk that caught his attention. Siberna tilted his head, observing the stag in the distance, his antlers adorned with birds and flora. Curious, and having not socialized for four suns already, the Arklov stag waded towards the odd looking Orian.
It wasn't until he was paces away that Siberna realized this stag was like the other he met seven suns ago. A foreigner, though Siberna wasn't certain how. Good day. He called forwad, deep voice a gentle brush of wind. He shook himself lightly, though the majority of his mirad pelt was soaked and brown with mud.
His wanderlust was building, and Siberna enjoyed his leisure adventure to the throes of the Shrine. The sun's heat wasn't too obtrustive, yet it was stifling compared to the range he was used to thriving in. Any chance the buck recieved to rub his sides upon rough bark and free up tuffs of his winter pelt, he did so with gusto. His antlers held tightly to his skull, for he was a fortunate one, and his anters remained as his helm throughout the year.
Rushing waters and flowing marshes consumed the Thambai. Typically Siberna left the range, restless, after the rainy season. He'd yet to witness the beauty and power bestowed upon the grasslands by the rain. He paused in knee deep mash water, observing the vast beauty in awe. Hues of green, red, brown, and blue mingled and spread in abundance. Siberna inhaled new grass shoots and muddy water. In his solitude, the buck suddenly bound forward and landed in a splash. A playful smile tugged his lips as he performed another aerial bound, landing in chest deep water with another massive wave.
He calmed as he traversed, careful with his steps, and soaking in the sights. At first he did not see the buck standing upon a wide patch of soggy ground. It was the musk that caught his attention. Siberna tilted his head, observing the stag in the distance, his antlers adorned with birds and flora. Curious, and having not socialized for four suns already, the Arklov stag waded towards the odd looking Orian.
It wasn't until he was paces away that Siberna realized this stag was like the other he met seven suns ago. A foreigner, though Siberna wasn't certain how. Good day. He called forwad, deep voice a gentle brush of wind. He shook himself lightly, though the majority of his mirad pelt was soaked and brown with mud.