Hoshor Plains We’re All Here For A Little Fun

His speed is meager compared to hers. Sure his thick limbs provide enough power and his body is built like a brick wall, but he is not made for long distanced runs. He’s better at short fast sprints. Which doesn’t much help him in the long run (no pun intended). Even though he’s able to catch up enough, he still lags behind a fair amount. Her tall form is fit for a runner and his — not so much.

Finally — thankfully — she begins to slow. His tiring sprint quickly halting into a walk. He releases a breathy chuckle and he too lulls a black-purple tongue out of his maw. The appendage is flat and dripping with drool, he sighs, flicking the appendage over lips and whiskers to catch and drool that spills.

“I’m not made for that.” He laughs, finally catching his breath. “It’s my only fault.” Then he quickly nods to her at her compliment and he lets out a sincere but quick, “Thank you.”

He too hear the rustling of grass and his head snaps to the direction, auds perking up like saucers. Eyes ravaging the horizon to see what could be making that noise.