[open] Breathe beauty into the midnight air; ANY

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

As it so often has, the field calls to Magnus today.

He can feel the hooks of it sinking into his belly, and he doesn’t bother to fight it. He loves his trips to the field, the routine to his daily life. He rises with the sun, patrols the border, checking on those who call the volcanic isle home. Sometimes, he stops to pass the time with Tephran family members, enjoying the idle time that is anything but—the conversations planting deep seeds of contentment within him. Other times, the land is relatively quiet and he leaves immediately after checking up on all of the corners of the land.

Regardless, eventually, he feels himself called to the field.

And he always answers.

The path from Tephra to the field is well-worn with the pattern of his hooves and he follows it easily, mindlessly, crushed gold body slipping out from the magma and the humidity to the field. It was, thankfully, a relatively quick trip, and the time passes quickly, the heat of Tephra bleeding away to be replaced by the cool breeze of autumn. When he reaches the border of the field, he lifts his heavy-jawed head up, scanning the area. It was busier today than usual, and the activity brought a smile to his face.

His attention, however, is caught by the mare of similar hue to himself.

He begins to walk toward her, smiling when he sees the other mare approaching. It was always such a pleasure to meet someone for the first time here and then meet them again when they returned to share their home with others. “Hello to you both,” his whiskey voice is quiet, strong, followed by a lopsided curve of lacerated lip. He pauses a few feet from them both, dipping his head in greeting. For a moment, he looks toward the first mare to approach, giving her a good-natured grin. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Kensa. I hope that Hyaline has been treating you well.” He then turns his gold-flecked gaze back to the first mare, letting it rest there. “My name is Magnus. What brings you to the field today?”

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine