Fall settles as a damp chill over the mountain land. The leaves change color – the land a palette of sunset oranges and reds – before dropping to the ground below. The animals start to make themselves scarce: the deer bound away into the forests, the squirrels hide away with their stashes, the birds leave the area altogether. It’s quiet and still, an apt reflection of the kingdom itself. Ramiel sighs heavily into the early afternoon air. He wishes it was as easy to change the motivation of a place as it was the season. With his sister now gone for the Amazons, the Dale seems disproportionally darker than it should, as if one young body carried the light of several horses. He misses her already, but realizes he must turn to the whole group rather than an individual. Their needs are greater than his by far.
The few horses that still wander the rocky hills are completely dependable, at least. There’s his mother and father, though they are a given and a staple. There is Elysteria, his aunt for all intents and purposes. And there is Weir, a new comer in every way except his work ethic. Already, he’s proven to be a capable and valuable asset to the kingdom. It won’t be long before he is due for promotions wherever his heart desires – the only question is, where does he so desire?
It’s been a few months since he’s seen the quirky roan stallion, and Ramiel seeks to amend that fact. He sets off quickly and quietly, phasing between various states of solidity as he goes. It’s become a recent practice of his to push his gift to the limit. Today, he decides to test how quickly he can go between the different states. He is solid at first, a warm, breathing body. But in the next second he becomes opaque, a blurry, milky version of the coal grey stallion he usually is. Within a few more breaths time, Ramiel fades into nothingness – invisible, save for his feet. It is another trick he’s been attempting, this fading only parts of his body, and he grins when it more or less works out as he intended. It’s not all for fun and games, though. He realizes there might come a time when his shifting could be a necessity on the battlefield. One never knows in their ever-changing land. It is best to be prepared for anything.
He’s still practicing when he sees Weir on the next rise. He fades into view as he walks, and by the time he reaches the other stallion, he is completely back to normal. He wonders if the man has noticed the change, however. “Weir. Good afternoon, sir.” Ramiel still sees the odd man as an elder, and though he’s grown since their first jaunt down the mountainside, he has enough respect to address him as such. “How are you liking the Dale so far?” He smiles as he asks it, having a sneaking suspicion on at least part of Weir’s answer. It will take time for them to grow, but thanks to Weir’s efforts in the Field (he has noticed his many departures and returns) hopefully that time will be lessened. He has more to say (and once business is concluded, he hopes they will talk more freely) but waits for the roan to say his piece first.
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again
ooc: figured I'd start a more current one! =)