Miles and miles of netherworlds I roam
Saying goodbye is always hard.
His foalhood and most of his young life was spent wandering around the Valley, once it's prince, now a stranger. No one knew him, it was as if he had never even been there. It saddened him a little, but the dark kingdom just was not for him. His mind was not dark or depraved, his intentions were not good nor bad. He was always in the middle, and he liked it that way. He could lean either way, no commitment, no worries, nothing. Most of the time he rarely got involved in small petty doings, the only time he ever got himself into something was if it was a threat to his home or family. Otherwise, sitting under the pines at the edge of the Valley was more his pace. But that time was over, he couldn't do it anymore. He wanted a home he could commit to, somewhere he could feel at home and respected. Somewhere that wasn't the smokey pine scented Valley. He spent a long time standing at the border, debating whether or not to leave. But alas, his dark legs propelled him forward, pulling him farther and farther away from his home. Soon, he felt almost light. His mind woke up.
What was I doing? Why was I just sitting there so long....
Davorin had been a prisoner of his own home...and now he was finally free. He could become all he was destined to be, or more, or less. He could do whatever he wanted, go where he pleased. Of course, the one place he decided would be his final destination, was the Falls. This was the one place he had ever been to that was not the Valley, he was not there for long since his mother angrily came to collect him due to him trying to play "kingdom prince does kingdom duties" without permission. He chuckled to himself remembering how he bravely sneaked out of the Valley and made it all the way to the Falls with not one problem. He was always a motivated being, he liked to stay on task. Most of his last days in the Valley were spent patrolling the borders and trying to recruit. Both jobs of which he took seriously with no recognition, which did not bother him. He knew that he was helping his kingdom, even if they never saw it.
He could smell it now, that fresh scent of fresh healing waters...he was getting closer to the border. The buckskin stag began to push into a lofty trot, his black antler crowned head held curiously high. He was excited, he couldn't contain it. Being only 4 he is still just a little excitable, though he is not at all brash or naive. This boy was definitely his father's boy. Quiet, somewhat angsty...young. You get it...he is a bit of a quiet stag. He gets his patience and reserved nature from his mother. Alise was very much a plagued mare, a product of a failed dream for a "pure" bloodline...her insanity made it so Davorin had to spend much of his time helping her cope or cheering her up. This helped him become compassionate, which most others of his old home were not....this is why he was not meant for that life. The Falls was where he wanted to be.
He let out a whinny, now standing on the border.
He wondered who would greet him. When he had come here as a foal almost 3 years ago, Natilyn and Shatter Me did. He remembered them being welcoming, and warm. And he remembered them both smelling of fresh water and light woods. The corners of his mouth curled into a small smile. He wondered if either of them were still around even, and if they were, he wondered if they would remember him from that visit those 3 years ago. It was possible, though now he is filled out and has a large set of black antlers atop his fine head. He waited ever so eagerly, the beginning of his next life chapter begins now..
davorin
