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Posts: 18
Gender: Male
Pronouns: him, his, he, himself
Status: Available
Narrative Style: Third person
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Post by Badr al-Miraj on Mar 16, 2014 12:03:07 GMT
[HASH]badrMessenger
It was Spring. As was expected of spring it was raining. Badr shook his head as he tried to stay warm. The robes had their uses, this wasn't one of them and even with clothing underneath in an attempt to keep warm it wasn't working out for the messenger. It really wasn't. He was currently riding Fajera, the quietness was disquieting. He wanted to be outside, not trapped inside, even if the inside was safer. His one eye was gazing over the landscape quietly, almost contemplating his surroundings. Well landscape, the concrete world of the bunkers could hardly be considered a stunning vista.
He shook his head again almost ruefully as he nudged the sensitive bay mare into a trot, his eyes glancing to the skies. Inshallah the rain would clear soon. He was to find his wish granted as the rain eased, the temperature dropping, the light falling rain turning to soft flakes of snow. Looks like it would be one of those days.
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