He watched them fade into a heat mirage -his father and sister- unsure of what to do.  If he defied his father the risk of his, their, safety was imminent.  He knew his father better than to think he had empathy for his children.  That his threats would be empty and were only meant to scare them into submission.

With a snort of frustration, and stomp of his hoof, he turns towards the western border.  About to head south, as instructed, he picks up a scent of lake.  The earthy scent of cedar and fresh water is all too familiar and he feels he must be near the Dale.  An idea sparks in his mind, he'd return home to inform his family what had happened, surely they were worried. 

His masked face, laced in a sickly black glow, looks to see no sign of his sister in the distance.  So with a determined mindset he turns back to the border, lunging into a gallop and finding the edge of the barren kingdom. 

He tries his best to jump from cover to cover undetected, in case his father had eyes on the lookout.  The vegetation is scarce and his dark glow does nothing but make him stick out each time there is an opening.  He pauses at each patch of barren land, surveying the area before moving on.  Laying low, he moves with a lanky stride to the next patch of brush and bramble.

Halfway there, to where he knows the river crossing to the Dale would be, dusk has taken hold and finally the darkness does him a kindness.  He slips from the meager cover and again takes to a fast gallop.  At this rate he'd be home in no time.

When he reaches the northern border he stops, turning to look back into the wasteland to see if he could see or hear anyone following him.  His pale ears swivel as he listens intensely for any hint of life.

It isn't a sound that alerts him to someone in the night, but a soft orange glow.  His eyes, having lost their usual eerie whiteness, look to see if he can make out the identity of the individual.  It wasn't as solid as his sister's fire, but like a patchwork of orange over a large frame.  He considers continuing on into the Dale, but like a moth to a flame he is drawn to the other.

He softens his steps, drawing closer with caution.  His black eyes remain fixed on the faint glow, watching it brighten as he nears.  Only when he notices a shimmer off another does he realize there is more than one being here.  His heartbeat races, stopping dead in his tracks, staring at not one, or two, but three others.

A scent comes to him on the breeze, laced with that of smoke and cedar.  It is sweet and gentle, like a bed of lavender.  His eyes close as he drinks it in, a smile appearing on his face for the first time in days. There is another familiar scent there too.

His eyes open as the words slip from his lips,  “Mother?  Jack?  Is that you?”

She rushes to him with tears of joy, embracing him.  Her gentle warmth is a welcome reprieve.  He wished it'd last forever, but soon she pulls.  

The questions begin, he looks to Jack with a greeting smile.  Then to the stranger whose glow had been a beacon to bringing him here.  The question lingers in his mind of who they were but he doesn't have a moment to ask before he's reassuring his mother.  "I'm ok really," he says as confidently as possible given the situation.  "He has Escence though and has demanded I go someplace called the Gates.  If I don't he's promised to harm me and I wouldn't put it past him to hurt anyone that interferes,"  his gaze shifts between those gathered.  "I was coming home to let you know.  I figured you'd be worried," he wasn't wrong that was for sure.  

There wasn't time to tell them about the fairies hand in his appearance or all of what happened, but he hoped that was enough to ease their minds.  "I must go, before he realizes I didn't go straight there.  I won't put my sister in danger," he says before turning away from the group.