Zavien
"Good point," he hums, pursing his lips as he thinks of the difficult predicament of making the desert traveler friendly. At the same point, his horse's hoof sinks into the deep pit of sand, his body tilting uncomfortably far in the saddle. "Maybe signage would be enough," he wonders as he adjusts for his horse's next step. Markers rising above the sand to guide the way along with detailed maps for reference. It's a possibility for sure.
It's a surprise that there's such little information about the desert, after all, there's so much material for writing. There's sand, and sand, and some different sand over there, and if he looks really hard at the distance, he can see... more sand. What more could an author hope to write about?
Keeping his comedic thoughts to himself as not to offend Colt's new home, Zavien tries to be helpful. "Are there any local storytellers? It's possible they don't write down their history." He had always been the kind to prefer hearing history than reading about it, sneaking into taverns to listen for the stories of noble knights and harrowing battles. Perhaps the locals here feel similarly when there's such a high risk of losing their books to the elements. Voices and memories won't fade as easily as paper and ink.
A trilling sound echoes in the air above them, and Zavien looks up to Sol, feeling the vague understanding through their bond as he tells Colt, "Sol's spotted something ahead." The dragon flaps his wings then circles above a point before making his way back towards them, ready to guide the way towards his discovery.
It's a surprise that there's such little information about the desert, after all, there's so much material for writing. There's sand, and sand, and some different sand over there, and if he looks really hard at the distance, he can see... more sand. What more could an author hope to write about?
Keeping his comedic thoughts to himself as not to offend Colt's new home, Zavien tries to be helpful. "Are there any local storytellers? It's possible they don't write down their history." He had always been the kind to prefer hearing history than reading about it, sneaking into taverns to listen for the stories of noble knights and harrowing battles. Perhaps the locals here feel similarly when there's such a high risk of losing their books to the elements. Voices and memories won't fade as easily as paper and ink.
A trilling sound echoes in the air above them, and Zavien looks up to Sol, feeling the vague understanding through their bond as he tells Colt, "Sol's spotted something ahead." The dragon flaps his wings then circles above a point before making his way back towards them, ready to guide the way towards his discovery.
It's a beautiful day.
Don't let it get away.
Don't let it get away.
