Hoshor Plains Pluviophile

Rakharo's thoughts were cut off short when the approaching male chuffed to announce his prescence. It was hard geting the scents of everyone around you under the rain, and although it wasn't torrential at the moment the winds were blowing hard in Azzaro's favor.

Rakharo turned to face the male with high stance and pride. Even soaked under the rain, the golden Khal looked mighty and powerful, but he had to admit that his companion had his big share of muscle and height. He looked like an oponent worty of Rakharo.

"M'athchomaroon, Azzaro." the Khal greeted. The raindrops were clearly audible in the puddle they were standing, but it didn't interfere with Rakharo's deep voice. "I enjoy the rain," he explained, "It's so pure... Have you ever fought someone under the rain, Azzaro?" he asked suggestively. He knew that the male was an aspiring Lajak, at least under Rakharo's rule, because he claimed to be a warrior by trade already.