Tiberios
There’s no particular reason as to why Tiberios returns to the meadow. He considers it a force of habit, from being estranged for so long. There’s sanctity in the afternoon stillness, a sense of change. Autumn is bleeding out her life force, giving way to the inevitability of winter and her barren death. His gilded eyes are filled with the comforting warmth of orange and red hues. Tiberios is still thin and ragged from his time in the wild, but his coat (now heavy with expanding fur) hides this from plain view. He knows that when winter finally does fade away to spring, he’ll be somewhat restored to his former health. The only indication of his hermitage can be seen along the side of his body that is pale and hairless - only there can his ribs be seen jutting out in a sickly manner.
The aging stallion pauses for a moment, ears swiveling suddenly forward to catch some creature as it darts from the edge of the meadow to a safer location. His nostrils flare and he inhales the rich, earthy scent of this place. He’d missed it so much. Satisfied, he continues on, stopping decidedly at the edge of the great lake to placate his thirst. It’s there that he sees his reflection for the first time since leaving. The wide, golden band that ran vertically down the slope of his nose glints off the surface of the water, and Tiberios is overcome with memories of the Dale. They’re painful, and much sharper than he remembers, but he doesn’t bury them. Instead, he dwells on them - the good and the bad.
He doubts that he could ever return there now. Besides, there was nothing left for him within those borders. Talulah and Tiphon had woven their own life together, and Tiberios was satisfied with having a father - even if it was only for a brief moment. It would be irrelevant to go back and stir up something he no longer had a say in. He blinks, slowly, and turns away from the stallion looking back at him, intent on forgetting that life.
Tiberios
Initiate of the Falls