Tasteless

*Apollinaris*

Apollinaris Galanis
Molon Labe

The road was arduous, but he would be lying if he said he disliked his travels thus far. It was almost refreshing to become such an explorer; the earth felt different under his paws when he was simply walking to a new destination instead of to battle. His clan was scattered, but they would be arriving here in this new land soon. The man grinned inwardly at the thought, eager to reunite with his family. A familiar scent put his daydreaming thoughts away, and he quickly switched course to follow the path of one much more seasoned than he. Ears came forward as his pace increased, nearly trotting to catch up with his old mentor.

We he came upon her, he immediately slowed so that his hurried steps didn't draw attention. Apollinaris had a flare for the dramatic, so he intended to call out to her to grab her attention. First, though, he glanced around to take in his surroundings. The scent of old blood lingered in the air, and the hair along his hackles bristled. A battlefield, he thought, nearly salivating as his muscled twitched. Ice gaze focused back to the woman in the distance, and he stood tall. "Spartan!" His voice rang true and loud as he stood, his chest puffed and his back straight. His warrior's paint was now all but gone, faded from sun, wind, and rain. Flecks could still be seen through his blue coat, but only if you looked closely. When the woman's attention was garnered, he flashed a broad grin, his tail lashing behind him once. She would know what he wanted - the best way to great your mentor was, of course, to spar.

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Tasteless

Spaaar?

Apollinaris