[private] standing cliffside scared to jump; Lethy

[Raed]

it's a lonely road, I know,
and nothing ever stands between a bullet and your soul;

As he was so prone to do, he had disappeared.

He had never been very good at anchoring himself in one place, or next to one soul, for long. He was wayward in so many ways, even if he didn’t always want to be. He has sought the comfort of another’s flesh more than once since his return, but Osyva had been the first to capture his attention – similar to the way Aevie had, but not the same. Aevie had been chaos and storms, with a sharp tongue and a smile that could cut him open. Osyva had been soft light, like the warm glow of summer.

And still, he didn’t stay, but neither had she.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he might have been worried. Not too long ago, he had felt the great tremors that had radiated from the general vicinity of the Mountain, but having been born here, he had hardly glanced backwards at it. It wasn’t until his body began to run hot with fever, and crimson blood trickled from his nostril, that he realized perhaps that great shudder had been something worth paying attention to. He would have taken Osyva to safety, if he knew where she was...and if he even knew where was safe anymore.

But it was beyond his control, and could not help someone he couldn’t even find. And so when he felt that familiar itch in his muscles, he caved into it, and he wandered.

Much of this new Beqanna was still foreign to him, and disregarding the boundaries the kingdoms had put into place, he entered wherever he felt fit. Loess was a place he had not been to yet, and it was in the dusky twilight that he found himself picking his way across the rocky terrain. The blue of his coat became muted tones of slate and navy in the dying light, and looking out with blue-gray eyes, he scanned the surroundings. He did not expect anything, or anyone, to catch his attention. There was little that piqued his interest anymore, but the sound of movement to his left caused him to tilt his head. Deftly, his vision shifted, and instead of straining to see through the night, he found the source of the noise – a mare set in the warm hues of orange and yellow and red, against a backdrop of cooler blues and greens and purples – before shifting back.

Normally, he would keep walking. Normally, he would not be interested in idle conversation. But her scent smells of the outlands – the outside. He watches her for a moment, debating inside of his head, before finally he approaches. His steps are fluid, vaguely predator-like in their slinking mannerism, and yet there is no malice in his shadowy eyes as he comes close enough to greet her. “You are not from here,” he says in his quiet, water-smooth voice, and he does not mean Loess. Here, there is a upward tilt of his lips, a hint of a boyish grin as he says, ”Welcome to Beqanna. I’m Raed.”

R A E D

@[Izora Lethia]