03-28-2018, 09:48 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
There is a peace in standing beside one of his children, no matter how fast the world might be twirling and changing around them. And how could there not be peace, when he has such great children? Perhaps he has a parent's blindness to the faults of his offspring, but the truth is he rarely finds more than a passing fault in any of them. Oh, they have disagreements, but they are often minor, or ignorable. He supposes some of the children he doesn't know personally could have grown into monsters, but he's pretty pleased with the ones he knows about. This one brings up his mother, and Brennen grins, eyes flicking towards the path they both know would take them to the little cove Galilee has claimed for herself here in Ischia. "She is well. Restless, but that is understandable since she is due any time now." Brennen is as restless as she is, because he is well aware of her vulnerability in her current state while he is out and about making plans for what could gently be called mischief. He'd prefer his youngest child safely out of its mother's womb before he acts, but she is taking her sweet time with that. "She insists it will be a filly, and with wings." He's decided to believe her - surely mothers have intuition for these sorts of things.
His heart would be heavy if he knew Belgaer was spending time contemplating his immortality already at his tender age - Brennen hadn't had that fact shoved in his life until he was quite a few years older than his son, and it has been something that has haunted him in dark hours ever since. He'd rather his chestnut son spend his time thinking about girls, and contests, and games. But of course despite his ever stoic exterior, Brennen was a wild child who threw himself into life in the Tundra with abandon, and rarely contemplated the deeper areas of philosophy; and Belgaer is quite different from that young Brennen. Bel thinks - and overthinks - all the time. He is thinking now, the bay knows his son well enough to know that, but he is content to wait on the boy to spit it out. He's always been able to wait out his children and the children in his care, and he's not about to lose the contest now. With a few rare exceptions, they all share whatever is bothering them eventually.
When Belgaer finally breaks the silence again, in a faltering voice that doesn't sound at all like he's sure he wants to speak about it at all, the bay turns to look at him again, his full attention given over to the boy: temporarily he puts aside all thoughts of Galilee and the unborn foal, of the twin boys just dropped off on his shores who will be raised alongside her, of the heavy hurts he fears Belgaer's sisters are carrying in their hearts, and of his plans for Ischia. For at least a few moments, Belgaer has his undivided attention in a way that most wish to avoid, because the warrior stallion can be...intense, when he's completely focused on something. Still, when his son's voice trails off, Brennen's is gentle in its reply, and his eyes affectionate. "You can tell me anything," he offers in reassurance.
His heart would be heavy if he knew Belgaer was spending time contemplating his immortality already at his tender age - Brennen hadn't had that fact shoved in his life until he was quite a few years older than his son, and it has been something that has haunted him in dark hours ever since. He'd rather his chestnut son spend his time thinking about girls, and contests, and games. But of course despite his ever stoic exterior, Brennen was a wild child who threw himself into life in the Tundra with abandon, and rarely contemplated the deeper areas of philosophy; and Belgaer is quite different from that young Brennen. Bel thinks - and overthinks - all the time. He is thinking now, the bay knows his son well enough to know that, but he is content to wait on the boy to spit it out. He's always been able to wait out his children and the children in his care, and he's not about to lose the contest now. With a few rare exceptions, they all share whatever is bothering them eventually.
When Belgaer finally breaks the silence again, in a faltering voice that doesn't sound at all like he's sure he wants to speak about it at all, the bay turns to look at him again, his full attention given over to the boy: temporarily he puts aside all thoughts of Galilee and the unborn foal, of the twin boys just dropped off on his shores who will be raised alongside her, of the heavy hurts he fears Belgaer's sisters are carrying in their hearts, and of his plans for Ischia. For at least a few moments, Belgaer has his undivided attention in a way that most wish to avoid, because the warrior stallion can be...intense, when he's completely focused on something. Still, when his son's voice trails off, Brennen's is gentle in its reply, and his eyes affectionate. "You can tell me anything," he offers in reassurance.
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN
@[Belgaer]