Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
Midsummer Festival, Nashua had called it. Yet the air against Gale’s navy skin feels anything but summery, and with an avian laugh he says something to the effect of that to Mazikeen where she flies beside him.
Gale had chosen a shape at random, caring only that it was not the same type of animal as Mazikeen wore. He’s a great blue heron that retains his signature brindle and white coloring, his snowy left wing marked in a bright crimson V. When he lands on the beach, shifting back to a horse with the ease of significant practice, the wings remain.
The beach here is rough and stony, and Gale looks down curiously, finding the odd footing intriguing. He is just thinking about flipping over a stone with his hoof when he hears the sound of Mazikeen beside him, and remembers where they are. Lifting his blazed head, Gale looks around from beneath the white shade of his long forelock.
There is a bustle of activity, strangers of every shape and color, and after he takes them in, he looks back to Mazikeen with a delighted smile.
“Wanna do the games?” He asks, sure that the assembled branches and rocks are for some sort of physical fun. Though Gale rested only briefly after his midnight arrival, his Healing has whisked away any weariness, and growing up as one of three triplets and a bevy of older siblings, his competitive streak runs far deeper than his brindling.
“Or maybe the Forest and then the Games?” The words are followed by a wink he’s mastered only recently, which does a fair enough imitation of referring to what they’d been up to in the woods just before arriving.
@[Mazikeen]
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Gale
