This is the first time he is truly leaving mother’s side. The level of security within Nerine is high enough for Nayl to permit him time to wander and explore. He realizes that she is always watching, every vigilant, and he takes note when there is unnatural movement in the sand or rocks – minute ways she reminds him that he is never entirely alone.
 
His mismatched eyes devour the sights of the kingdom with the ferocity of a starved animal. His ears swivel and twirl like the dance of a ballerina, completing the images he sees with the appropriate sounds.
 
The waves crash. The gulls cry. The tall grass whispers. The tumbling stones growl.
 
There is beauty in it all, and he admires it with unexpected fascination. Occasionally, a young, amused grin lazily stretches across his lips. ”Nerine,” he mutters the name of his home for one of the very first times and he is shocked to not hear his voice so readily crack; Castile has been trying to include himself in mother’s conversation so that he can accustom himself to the deep vibrations of his throat. It’s a tickling sensation that runs along his neck and tingles the hinges of his jaw.
 
But it isn’t his voice that has thus far fascinated him the most about himself. It isn’t how his coat holds a strong resemblance to mother’s. Instead, it’s the wings that sprout from his shoulder blades and how, when disgruntled, plumes of black smoke coil from his nostrils. One time, he even sneezed and one of his wings shifted into scales and thin membranous skin instead of feathers. It looked awkward and he stared in bewilderment throughout the day. Overnight, sometime while he was asleep curled next to mother, his wing reverted back to its original shape and texture. Seeing it normal again comforted him, but simultaneously confused him. He doesn’t yet understand what he can do – what he is - as he hasn’t yet met father. Mother says soon, but Castile’s patience is ever thinning like any typical child’s.
 
With his gaze trained on the rippling sunbursts on the ocean’s surface, Castile occasionally beats his wings against the wind, imagining himself months – maybe even weeks – from now, taking flight and feeling nothing but the salty air caress him. 

”Hello, Orion,” there is no need to look back over his shoulder to know who stands there. His scent rolls across him much like the tide he is watching, and the mannerisms of his voice also give it away. The stallion is unique. He stands out from the majority of Beqanna, his amiability surpassing most. Then again, Castile hasn’t ventured far from Nerine yet. Mother keeps a heavy eye on him, but additionally, he doesn’t know where to explore. He wants so badly to fly and to reach heights far beyond their reach. His wings unfurl from his sides and beat the air once as an active stretch before folding once more.

Only then does he finally look back to see the obsidian male.

”It is beautiful here,” he smiles, and it’s genuine, as he has great pride in his home. Unfortunately, he realizes that his time is limited here. This is a matriarchal society and mother wants something so much greater for him. She wants to see him create a name across Beqanna, to seize opportunities never thought possible. Nayl would never let her boy settle to be a warrior for her own idle amusement. It simply isn’t her nature, or his.

When he glances past Orion, he can just barely see the lining of the ridge high above. Then he looks to the southeast where, far beyond, there is the invisible border that they share with Pangea.

Don’t go there, mother said.
But why?
It’s a place where you are not welcomed, where you do not belong.

His mismatched eyes lazily drift back to Orion, a languid smile still adorning his handsome face. ”I appreciate that,” because he truly does and wants to know that Nerine will be protected even years after he leaves and finds new beginnings. ”She isn’t so bad, my mother” Orion said nothing of this, but the boy is more or less thinking aloud, ”but she takes a while to get used to.” Mother has an iron fist and a voice as chilling as ice. There are days when he would be willing to abandon her side, but he is so protective – so watchful – of her and everything she does. ”If you gain her respect, you’ll have a strong ally.” She’s powerful, even this he knows. ”Will you be taking part in the fights?”