Ischia’s winters are no different from her springs and falls, and going to the shore always brings a certain chill, except perhaps if he were to visit Loess in summer - or Tephra. But despite a summer heat, no climate is ever exactly a match to his home, no matter how close some might come. Yes, it is home now; he’d tried many a year with the Pampas, but after the debacle for leadership so long ago, he never felt that he was trusted by the lead mare, despite both their efforts.
He’d been dormant there - not what he could be.
What he was, what he could be, what he had wanted to be and have was a herd. A small one, really; he hadn’t any great ambitions, but he wanted a few people close to him, a family. That’ he now could grow in Ischia - part of the family he shared with Eva and her other mate, Velkan. Part of it he shared with Carwyn, though she always claimed to belong to another. It was complicated and yet the gold-spotted knabstrup hybrid thought it was simple enough - one did what one desired in the moment, with the one or ones who were closest to them, and if that meant that all of their ties were criss-crossed lines that no other could make sense of, then so be it. It wouldn’t bother the handsome baroque, as long as no one else got hurt. And it was the latter condition that saved him a lot of trouble, that had caused him and Eva to truly come to the understanding they had long since needed.
Life was good on Skye, the small island she had given him to nurture. He’d shown Aeolus around already, though his son was not of the age to stick around with his dad so long, these days. And now a sibling was on their way, and although Aodhán could not help but think it would be Eva’s last for a while, it was the best feeling in the world that he knew, to be expecting.
Still, he left Ischia a little more often these days. He’d visited his ever-growing family in Nerine, a little shocked to find his sister had birthed twins - but then, he had children too she hadn’t known about. Nowadays, he figured that the Field and the common lands would also provide great opportunity - perhaps, after all, he should do his share to keep Ischia a blossoming territory, the land abundant with horses; the sanctuary that the nereids had built on the warm, white-sanded shores needed not only preserving, but new members as well.
He still half-regrets going in the winter season, however; he activates a magic inside of him that he’d not needed for a long time; glowing and radiating heat like a flame, he starts looking around to spy if there was anyone alone.
Or just in need of a bit of warmth, you know?
He doesn’t immediately find a lonely horse upon entering the Field, but that doesn’t deter the spotted male. He makes his way over to the waterfall, finding it half-frozen, and seems to stare at it almost longingly before turning away from it - a reminder of a past almost forgotten, as fuzzy as the memory of his fire trait, the memory of his birthplace might be.
But he hasn’t come here for the past, he’s here to help make a future. It may be fate, he thinks then, that the moment he turns around with that thought in the back of his mind, his eye falls on the dark young mare nearby.
She’s pretty, in a way he hasn’t seen for a time; lots of horses he knows in Ischia are wildly coloured, he himself actually one of the least. She’s not plain however, as her dark coat is shiny through the snowflakes. Now, he has snowflakes on his own and not at all natural ones like hers, but Aodhán thinks it might be good that he draws no more attention through those, right now. His metallic gold spots where perhaps brown or black ones should have been, and the fact that he is currently glowing as a side effect of keeping himself warm (and possibly his close surroundings), are quite enough.
When he approaches, another beats him to it - standing closer to her than the spotted male has been taught to be polite, but so be it; that didn’t mean she was claimed just yet. It would be nice to offer her a choice, then, he supposed. Tell her that, if she did not want to be a herd mare, Ischia was... perhaps a little more free-thinking than most places.
His green eyes light up with an energetic sparkle that would be familiar to those who know him; ready for play, a little mischief if needed, or just his bubbling personality being a whirlwind that one could step into. He closes the distance between them easily, looking up to the extremely-large male almost fleetingly, and suppressing the urge to match his height - his birth-height matched the young mare’s, after all. ”Hello there. I’m Aodhán, of Ischia; decidedly warmer than the Field in winter. I was wondering if you wanted any help with that?” he proposes, nodding to the way she scrapes at the snow to find the underlying grass stalks. And indeed, behind him, he has trailed quite a few hoofprints of perfectly round marks - of melted snow.
from the ashes a fire shall be woken
@[Zylah]
@[Chemdog]