Welcome to Gaia! ::

Dim beams of light filtered though the dense branches of the trees as the sun seemed to almost pause above them. A soft wind ruffled the leaves quietly, making them sway ever so slightly. All seemed calm in the world; yet Richmon could find no peace in it. A chill wind had been sweeping across the lands like the cold hand of death himself. The world seemed to be dieing, and this had left Richmon unsettled. Here, in the heart of the forest, it felt as though nothing was changing. It was as if the dense tree trunks and gnarled branches were enough to keep the icy grip from taking hold. And yet there were signs if someone took the time to notice that this place was beginning to succumb. As each day passed more and more leaves littered the forest floor. It was only a week ago that not a single beam of light could pass through their barrier. Richmon lifted his head, his gaze resting on the blank branches above him. What was this? He was lost in his thoughts now, attempting to figure out what was going on. He was failing though.

The abrupt sound of a female shouting jarred Richmon from his thoughts. Could the owner of the voice be addressing him? The possibility was there, though Richmon doubted it. Never the less, he believed it would be better to check and make sure. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he let his gaze fall from the branch above; his thoughts, for now, would have to wait.

Ebony hooves fell softly as he made his way closer to the owner of the voice, and as the trees passed by Richmon began to see brief glimpses of green up ahead. Perhaps some sort of vegetation that had managed to escape the onslaught of cold? Richmon's heart lifted a little at the thought, but as the trees began to thin it was apparent that the green belonged not to a bush or tree, but another Soquili. His heart fell once more to confusion and hopelessness. Ah, well... At lest he had found the shouting female. He looked her over quickly, finding her stance to be odd. It was as if she expected to be attacked in some way. He felt as though the mortals custom of greeting one another upon meeting should take place at this moment, but with her shout earlier he could come up with nothing for small talk to ease her nerves. It seemed as though he had yet to master this custom.

With no idea of what to say, and with complying with the mare's earlier demands (even if they had not been directed at him), Richmon chose to stand silently and still.

For a moment Richmon almost believed that the mare before him was not who she seemed. Her demeanor, feisty yet sarcastic remarks, the same look of disgust as she gazed at him; it was as if she was another mare entirely, one he called 'Wrath', one he knew very well and yet not at all. Wrath was the one soquili in the past year he had met more than once - and through her he had learned many things, though he had yet to find her true name. Yet after that first initial second Richmon came to realize that this mare in no way shape or form could be the one he called 'Wrath'. Her eyes did not hold the... What was the term for the emotion? Ah, yes, sadness that Wraths did. This mare was bolder - though like the other mare it too could be a mask to hide the truth.

It prodded at Richmon's curiosity to say the least. He held his tongue though on the matter, least his bluntness drive the mare to rage (as they had done with Wrath) or frighten her away. Instead, he only chose to answer her question. "I apologize, ma'am, but I have no rude comments to contribute."