through the darkness to the dawn
He wanders because he is all full of restlessness.
An insatiable need to move.
He has met many a soul who blame their wandering on an inherent unhappiness but he has never felt that way. He is spurred across Beqanna by a sort of breathless wonder, a want to swallow the world whole. He wants it all to live in the cage of his chest where he can nurture it and love it and let it shine.
A silly thing to want, certainly. But he is still just a boy, wide-eyed and naive. There has been nothing yet that has fettered his bone-deep joy.
He moves now to the river as a wolf because he has always been more comfortable that way. A shaggy animal with gold-laced fur. And, though he wears wings as an equine, he has no wings as a wolf. He pads right through the mud, reveling in the way it squishes between his individual toes. And he smiles but it looks something more like a snarl, all teeth, in this form.
He goes to the water and he sees her there. A pretty thing that makes his heart pulse sideways (the pretty things always do) and he shifts seamlessly from his canine form back to his equine. Because he is prettier as a horse, he knows.
Not that he should be at all preoccupied with the way he looks.
“Hello,” he calls from the shore and tilts his head. The smile looks less threatening on the horse’s mouth. “Aren’t you cold in there?”
@[rosebay]