And when all the lights are broken, You keep the fire going
Each of them are, in short, only a fraction of what’s come before. Centuries of bloodlines fragmented and shared, some crossed over and tangled into new creations resembling their ancestors, yet not quite the same. Yanhua knows this, even if he forgets it more often than not. In the future, when a hundred years have passed and the restful peace of death never touches him, he may reflect on it more - but today he revels in a new discovery about himself. He has very little knowledge regarding his sire’s bloodline and where it stretches on either side, even less idea that @[isra] is correct in her musings: the stallion whose name started with a ‘P’ was Pollock, and he was Yan’s great-grandsire descendant through the female lines (on Wolfbane’s his sire’s side.)
There’s something of a dark side to his past, but the side he shows the blue roan mare when they first meet each other’s gaze is buoyant and characteristically friendly.
“Well hello, Isra!” Yan greeted her warmly, surprised to find another wanderer this far out. Make no mistake: he was happy to be interrupted! Especially when the interruption came in the form of a curiously sociable mare. “Yan; pleasure to meet you.” He introduced himself in turn.
As she’d taken a moment to look at his horns, so had he taken a moment to absorb her approach. Her pelt was mottled like the lichen-covered cliffs of Nerine, an array of white marks and spots in random order cast across a velvety blue-gray backdrop. She was smaller than Yanhua, which was typical of most horses he’d ever encountered, and though there wasn’t any distinction to her that belied a particular breed, Yanhua found her rather pleasant in appearance. He wasn’t the judgemental type, but neither was Isra uncomely. He could at least see that plainly. The stallion smiled.
“Is there something I could help you with?” He offered, ever the gentleman. “Or am I just lucky enough to have the satisfaction of your company today?”
There’s something of a dark side to his past, but the side he shows the blue roan mare when they first meet each other’s gaze is buoyant and characteristically friendly.
“Well hello, Isra!” Yan greeted her warmly, surprised to find another wanderer this far out. Make no mistake: he was happy to be interrupted! Especially when the interruption came in the form of a curiously sociable mare. “Yan; pleasure to meet you.” He introduced himself in turn.
As she’d taken a moment to look at his horns, so had he taken a moment to absorb her approach. Her pelt was mottled like the lichen-covered cliffs of Nerine, an array of white marks and spots in random order cast across a velvety blue-gray backdrop. She was smaller than Yanhua, which was typical of most horses he’d ever encountered, and though there wasn’t any distinction to her that belied a particular breed, Yanhua found her rather pleasant in appearance. He wasn’t the judgemental type, but neither was Isra uncomely. He could at least see that plainly. The stallion smiled.
“Is there something I could help you with?” He offered, ever the gentleman. “Or am I just lucky enough to have the satisfaction of your company today?”
And when all the nights feel like they're closing, You're leaving an opening