Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
Even the small fraction of their mother’s pride that Gale had inherited gave him the fortitude to sulk for the better part of a fortnight before setting out in search of his sister.
Horses tend to wander less frequently in the darkness, Gale has noticed, they keep to the beaches and woods they know best, rarely venturing farther than they must. With the shadows that press in on them he understand their wariness, and a thin prickle of anxiety dances along his spine as he walk. It does not show in his expression (hard and blue and focused) though, and he does not shy away from the uneven beat of the waves to his left. Gale is resting his eyes today, using his other senses to guide him to preserve his magical reserves. The sound of the water and the feel of the black sand beneath his hooves keeps him heading in an a relatively straight line.
He did run into a bit of driftwood, and the resulting bruise along his left cannon bone smarts sharply, the pain a bright spot in the darkness. It hardly affects his gait, and by the time he’s walked a few more miles and reached the strip of beach he has seen Eyas on most frequently, it twinges as if it were already a week old. Accustomed to his slow and often unimpressive healing, Gale glances down at the injury as he draws to a halt. Had it healed so quickly since he’s had no other damage, he wonders? Does his healing, like his other gifts, have a finite capability?
Gale calls out for Eyas, recognizing the potential significance of this discovery, and then returns to his internal philosophizing while he waits for her to answer. It might be only a few minutes, or it might be a few days - the brindle stallion tends to lose track of time when he’s concentrating on a new puzzle. He startles out of a half-planned experiment involving sharpened logs of varying sizes at the sound of hoofsteps nearby.
@[Eyas]
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Gale
