The East and the South had tension, there was no secret about that. Loess had stolen Litotes, and the other districts had done nothing to condemn the action. Still, the counsel had called for no retribution to be carried out, that things should be resolved with diplomacy. Raul found he had no quarrel with this decision.
Even as a member of his kingdoms' battle ready, war was not his first nature. He was good at it, dont get me wrong, and all the tools of war were his. But he was a child of air and fire, one who'd rather think his way through a problem before resorting to razing the earth. It was with this mindset that the young stallion made his way to the forested land of Sylva, a place he'd long been curious about.
Mom had lived here, ruled here, for a time in her youth. Standing at the brink of the always autumn wood, he admired the variegated foliage that his own coloration merged with so well. There was a leaf to match every shade and tint that shimmered in his hair, and he knew what had drawn his dam to this secretive corner of the world. Silver Cove had become a home to him in recent moons, and he'd grown to love it and those who occupied its safe bounds. Yet this place wove a different sort of spell. A masquerade of peace, a mocking mystery, seemed to be woven into the very trees and filled him with every breath.
"Hello...?" He called out into the stillness, gravely timbre muffled by the dense undergrowth. Even his hoofbeats seemed silenced here. He mistakenly believed this was due to the thick carpet of leaf mulch that blanketed the area. In truth, his nerves were such that the wind had decided to aid him, holding his feet a scant breadth above the ground. No sound fell from his hooves because they were not touching the earth. No prints showed where he'd been, or where he was going.
He stood patiently at the border, mismatched eyes sweeping the area with steady rhythm as he waited for someone to find him.
@[Mary]
Even as a member of his kingdoms' battle ready, war was not his first nature. He was good at it, dont get me wrong, and all the tools of war were his. But he was a child of air and fire, one who'd rather think his way through a problem before resorting to razing the earth. It was with this mindset that the young stallion made his way to the forested land of Sylva, a place he'd long been curious about.
Mom had lived here, ruled here, for a time in her youth. Standing at the brink of the always autumn wood, he admired the variegated foliage that his own coloration merged with so well. There was a leaf to match every shade and tint that shimmered in his hair, and he knew what had drawn his dam to this secretive corner of the world. Silver Cove had become a home to him in recent moons, and he'd grown to love it and those who occupied its safe bounds. Yet this place wove a different sort of spell. A masquerade of peace, a mocking mystery, seemed to be woven into the very trees and filled him with every breath.
"Hello...?" He called out into the stillness, gravely timbre muffled by the dense undergrowth. Even his hoofbeats seemed silenced here. He mistakenly believed this was due to the thick carpet of leaf mulch that blanketed the area. In truth, his nerves were such that the wind had decided to aid him, holding his feet a scant breadth above the ground. No sound fell from his hooves because they were not touching the earth. No prints showed where he'd been, or where he was going.
He stood patiently at the border, mismatched eyes sweeping the area with steady rhythm as he waited for someone to find him.
@[Mary]