He’s not entirely sure if he’s here to stay or not. He was almost old enough that his mother stopped hanging over him, trying to get him to stop running off. He waited till she fell asleep though and just snuck out at night. But now, he’s nearly two, and he can’t live in the Amazons unless he wants to be someone’s bitch for the rest of his life. And he really doesn’t want to do that.

He knows his father lived in the Valley, and is pretty sure they guy ruled here a few times. Though that would have been so long ago it was entirely irrelevant now. Actually, it was entirely irrelevant in general, because Rhonan didn’t care. The only thing he cares about is seeing the place his dad has called home. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to Covet. Rhonan doesn’t mourn not having a father. It doesn’t upset him, doesn’t make him feel unloved (his mother watches the boys close enough that he knows he’s a least some prizes possession, and maybe even loved at that). But still, he would like to know what bits he can. Would like to know if he was born to follow in his father’s footsteps.

If he hates it here, he’ll wander to the field and see what vultures come hunting for him. Maybe someone entertaining will pick him up.

But for now, he stops on the border of the Valley. He’s vaguely tempted to just walk in, because it sounds like something is going on. But then again, he doesn’t feel like walking into the middle of some kingdom meeting or some shit and having the other horses actually think he wants anything to do with that yet. He still hasn’t decided. He actually just wants someone to find him, and see if they seem worth his time. So he waits at the border, settling in to nibble at the pathetic grass beneath his feet. He figures he could be here for a while.

rhonan.

Rhonan probably shouldn’t impress anyone. He doesn’t pry because he actually doesn’t care. He doesn’t give two shits who rules the Valley (or anywhere else for that matter) unless it’s life or death for him. He has no reason to care. The painted boy is just that, a boy. He doesn’t serve a kingdom, and certainly has no plans to serve the one he was born into. That may be the only thing he does care about. He’s no manservant. Screw that noise.

A meeting just sounds like work, sounds like aligning himself with some kingdom he’s not ready to align himself with. He’s not like Demian. The Valley doesn’t call to him (nor does anywhere else, for that matter). He’s here because the Valley called to his father, because that alone makes him wonder if he might fit in here. In the end, he doesn’t know if he’s cut out for kingdom life. Maybe he’ll be a meadow bum. Or a herd stallion, and collect himself some pretty mares. He has no idea. And really, he doesn’t think he needs to know. Not yet.

It’s not all that long, considering Rhonan’s bad timing, before a stallion with glowing jaguar marks finds him. In another other world, Rhonan might find those marks weird. But this is Beqanna, and it’s pretty normal to glow. “Rhonan,” he says, because he at least has managed to learn it’s polite to give his name. Though sometimes he forgets, or decides he doesn’t feel like it. “I kind of just wanted to check the place out. My dad used to live here.” This is only half an explanation, but it seems like more than enough to Rhonan. Words have never really been his strong suit.

rhonan.

He is his parent’s child. Myrina may love the Jungle, but she’s never really served it. Covet certainly served the Valley, but still, in the end he didn’t give two many shits about too many things. His is a product of his mother’s pretty pretty princess coat (with a tinge of orange in his eyes to hint of his father) and his father’s sheer awkward apathy. Not that he’s never ever known his father, so he wouldn’t really know this. He takes after his father in that he will never be a diplomat either. He’s no good with words, and doesn’t really care to try.

The stallion is pleasant, welcoming him in easy enough. If pressed, despite Rhonan’s lack of social graces, he would have to admit that it’s good to be back in normal company again. Whenever he’s alone, he swears he spies Noah out of the corner of his eye. But Noah is gone. Noah may never have been real in the first place. He still doesn’t know, and sometimes he can’t help but wonder if the demon ever plopped him back in Beqanna at all.

Reality, to him, has become a strange concept. And the entire realization that he’s lived so many lives (all of them horrible) makes him reluctant to try again. The boy has burned and killed and destroyed everything he’s ever had – not purposefully, but still, it was all gone. Not that he currently intended to inform the residents of the Valley of this. Or anyone. No one would want him then. Hell, they probably barely wanted him now.

Demian seems interested at the mention of his father though, and so Rhonan answers. “Covet. Never met him. Just know he lived here.” He doesn’t seem upset about this, and he isn’t. How could he miss something he never had? Hell, when Beqanna had burned (that had been a dream, hadn’t it?), he hadn’t even been sad at the realization his brother and mother burned with it. But he misses his crow, and he misses Noah.

And then, just because he’s still an asshole, despite his strange young life, “I heard the Chamber’s the one with the heart. Which seems creepy as fuck, so I didn’t go there.”

rhonan.