[open] calling to join them, the wretched and joyful

[elio]

elio

some say I should learn to cry but I only learned how to fight
and I know everything must die but nothing fades like the light

Mmm, Elio sighs, watching Oren with eyes as resigned as they are moody. A child bearing childlike questions, he can't say he begrudges the boy his curiosities. How can Lio walk and do nothing? He slips away into thought, just for the briefest of moments--until the colt drags him back with another round of chirping.

"Yes, six years old," the stallion says on a quiet laugh. The noise is nearly sincere--he nearly means it, can feel the dregs of reality dragging him back into the ocean of life--but not quite, still the slightest bit forced. He wonders if Oren knows the difference between forced and real laughter, and mourns the idea of being the one to teach him such a concept.

Surely this boy deserves a brighter childhood than Elio had.

Yes, he deserves just that.

"Three?" Lio gasps. Three months old, out in the wild without a care. He will be damned before he allows the woes of Beqanna to trample someone so young so early.

"I won't tell her," he offers as consolation, thinking that if he says I'm taking you home to your mother right now, the child will be more likely to run from him. "I used to live with giant redwood trees, rounder than your whole length. What kind of trees do you live with? Maybe you can show me? And I can answer some questions on the way, too." Lio finishes and stretches just the tiniest tendrils of calm toward the boy, hoping the boy will feel peace and run with it.

@[Oren]