07-18-2020, 06:50 AM
l e p i s
the city's where the stars lost the war
The dun monarch is rarely without her youngest son, and this early spring day is no different. Lepis and Kestrell stroll together down the path that leads to the southernmost land of their empire, the bright afternoon sunlight lighting the robin’s egg sky and the tall red peaks around them. Eventually the red hills grow more colorful, and the scrubby brush that covers them becomes interspersed with bunches of billowing grasses. As they walk, Lepis explains the importance of borders, the consequences of crossing them, and the exceptions to those. She has done her best to teach the piebald colt as much as she can, recalling the lessons given to her by her mother and Uncle when she was even younger than Kestrell.
Kestrell’s resemblance to that Uncle is not something she has told him of, but as the two of them arrive in the heartland of the floral pampas, Lepis knows that it is something that Noah will undoubtedly notice.
With a gesture of her head, she sends the smoky black tobiano back toward a pond they’d passed, where she’d previously denied him a drink. There’d been some hoofprints in the mud there, and Lepis wonders if perhaps he might encounter Tickaani’s son or one of the other foals his age that Noah has told her live here.
Leis continues ahead, winding through the brightly colored grasslands until she finds a familiar red roan shape.
“Noah!” she calls, her voice carrying over the tall grasses that separate the two small mares. For a moment she considers trying to make her way toward the other mare, but the grasses are thick and strong here, and Lepis has no desire to battle her way through. There’s already an ache in her neck from where she’d slept crookedly, and she is reluctant to push it. “Over here!” She calls, trusting the other to know the easiest path to her.
@[Noah]
Kestrell’s resemblance to that Uncle is not something she has told him of, but as the two of them arrive in the heartland of the floral pampas, Lepis knows that it is something that Noah will undoubtedly notice.
With a gesture of her head, she sends the smoky black tobiano back toward a pond they’d passed, where she’d previously denied him a drink. There’d been some hoofprints in the mud there, and Lepis wonders if perhaps he might encounter Tickaani’s son or one of the other foals his age that Noah has told her live here.
Leis continues ahead, winding through the brightly colored grasslands until she finds a familiar red roan shape.
“Noah!” she calls, her voice carrying over the tall grasses that separate the two small mares. For a moment she considers trying to make her way toward the other mare, but the grasses are thick and strong here, and Lepis has no desire to battle her way through. There’s already an ache in her neck from where she’d slept crookedly, and she is reluctant to push it. “Over here!” She calls, trusting the other to know the easiest path to her.