Warden

[Rhaegor]

Laughter courses through my breast with a forgotten ease at Warden's titular rebuttal, the warmth of it remaining as its sound disappears amidst the quiet fondness of our embrace. Warden, too, shows signs of sincere joy as by the expression on his face and the slight lilt to his voice that he reserves for special occasions; too well do I know the troubles Warden faces, having grown up next to him and roused him from night terrors that were not really night terrors.

I remember him rousing me from some of my own, too.

But our precognitive burdens does not bring me here today and so I attempt to put it out of my mind, though you can imagine that that is easier said than done. Somehow, though, I know that this familial condition curses and plagues me far less in adulthood than it does the stallion before me, I think for the most part because of my telepathy. My mind only hosts so much room for mental magic; Warden's, on the other hand, consumes him whole.

As we retreat from our embrace, a slight restriction appears upon Warden's face, and I wonder at its meaning. I confess that I know little to none of the politics of today; raising Sunset with Dawn demands, nay, captures all of my attention. I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love my son.

Too much, Warden admits. I can share, if it is a load you have room to carry. I bob my head without hesitation in response, the shape of my eyes creasing with concern for what my uncle must carry.

Please, I have room to spare, I think to him, shuffling my wings and chewing my gums in an inviting and comforting way. In fact, it would be my honour to be a safe space for what ails your mind, brother.

.

@[Warden]