He can feel himself becoming happy, beginning to feel a sense of belonging that comforts him at the same time as it terrifies him. He cannot help the quiet feeling of dread that tugs at him, the sense of trepidation that clogs his mind ever so stealthily. It happens every so often, where he would remember a tiny and irrelevant detail such that of his past and the disquieting fact that he is slowly forgetting his long lost (where they in fact lost, though?) family. It cannot be helped and he has not found a way to squash the feeling away; it lingers, ever so quietly at the back of his mind, hovering there like a predator in the shadows, waiting for a weak moment to pounce. Today, though, he was not weak. He felt more alive than ever, he felt hopeful and strong. He focuses on this moment, however brief it may be, and clings to it. It is these moments that he will reflect on when he is by himself to bring a glimmer of hope in his darkest times.
As the ground grows upwards before them to form into the rocky peak that is the volcano, Warrick’s curious gaze lingers on Tang. He so desperately wishes to see her reaction, hoping that the sight of the sleeping giant will bring her the same feeling it brought him (and still does). He is not disappointed. A smile curls on his indigo lips, his heart pricking with the familiar feeling of affection. Not in a physical sense, of course, (he had only just met Tang and though she was quite lovely, he barely knew her), but in an emotional way - as if they had known each other for many, many moons. He had asked the same question upon his arrival in Tephra, in awe of the slumbering beast spitting fire and ash, and felt that it deserved it’s own name and title. The stallion slowly was beginning to see how alike he and the golden and cream mare truly were. It seems as though they both grew up with stories of magic and legends, finding appreciation in nature’s grand showcase.
He snorts softly, his eyes finally leaving her and gazing up to the wondrous and timeless creation before them. He fixates on the towering shadow in the distance, alight and pulsing with trickling lava and smoke. Warrick knew well that the stars and their constellations have their own names, as well as the galaxies and spiraling nebulae. It was only fitting that Warrick would assume that such a great monument of nature would be named as well – or at least deserving of one. The volcano almost seemed as if it was alive, and Warrick wonders if he got close enough if he could hear a heartbeat within its walls.
“Not that I know of,” he replies somewhat sadly, lips falling into a thin line. He remembers his conversation with Magnus, and how the golden stallion had suggested to Warrick that someone should name it. He presses his lips together. “All things are born with a name. She will tell us hers in her own time.”
Warrick is smiling again, finding comfort that Tang was enjoying the landscape of her temporary home. She nips him softly, playfully, and he chuckles lightly. Before he can return the gesture she is off, cantering away from him. He gives chase, following her at an easy lope. The stars begin to appear as the golden rays of the sun begin to ebb, the two horses dancing in the last moments of the day’s light. Dusk covers them, the land itself enveloped with an unusual glow – silver from the moon mixed with the warm orange of molten lava that runs in rivulets down the volcano and spreads out throughout Tephra with long, glowing fingers. It almost seems as if landscape was caught in between moonrise and sunset – as if time has stopped. It was interesting to Warrick; to feel the familiar silver light of the moon and stars fall onto his auburn skin yet at the same time feel the humid warmth from the constantly moving magma in the not so far distance.
The two come to a lazily moving stream, hot and sticky with the humid air. Warrick does not hesitate to stride into the cool waters, letting it darken the navy of his muscular legs. He lowers his head to drink, blazing blue eyes shifting to Tang. He lifts his head, droplets of water falling from his blue whiskers. A smile, then a soft nicker inviting her to join him. Even at dusk, Tephra was tepid and warm – the water was cool and welcoming against his skin and travel-worn legs.
w a r r i c k
@[Tangerine]