The sound of her voice causes a softening in the deep blue of his eyes, the quiet uncertainty that had been storming inside them stilling almost immediately. “You make it sound like it’s an easy thing to do,” he murmurs with a huff, a small hint of a smile in his voice. “When have you seen me be able to worry less?” This time the smile seems to fade slightly, and knowing that Beyah would notice, he makes up for it by gently shifting his weight so that their shoulders touch. It was always like this between the two – a give and take, much like the tides on a sandy shoreline.
Warrick sighs, in an attempt not only to calm himself but to also reassure Beyah that he was in fact trying to relax in the midst of new possibilities. Navy-tipped ears prick towards the sky as a roll of thunder rumbles; Warrick had always enjoyed the rain and what it brought with it, and for a moment he was calm as he watched the northern sky fill with clouds that grew ever darker as the day stretched on.
It was here, where Beyah and Warrick had found a quiet moment where Warrick’s stirring thoughts had silenced, that the solid thump of soft dirt giving way beneath hooves breaks the stillness. As Warrick turns his dark blue eyes towards the stranger, a soft snort leaves indigo lips. His ears flick backwards temporarily, but not in animosity. He had stiffened slightly at the stranger’s presence, and though his body language appeared somewhat uneasy, he was certainly welcoming of this new personality joining them. “New adventures,” he thinks, steadying himself for one moment longer on Beyah’s shoulder before turning his ears towards the winged-stallion and taking a single step towards him.
Warrick inspects the charcoal-black stallion carefully, but truly only seconds pass before his own voice cut through the air. “I’m Warrick,” he says sturdily, his dark eyes resting confidently into the gaze of Errant. Warrick isn’t sure if he knows who Errant is, but he feels like he should. Covered with silver-sewn scars (from battle, perhaps?) and marked with the lights of the night sky, Warrick figures that he’s plays important role somewhere here in Beqanna. His gaze lingers for a moment on the wings that are folded up carefully at Errant’s sides, wondering momentarily what it’s like to fly.
“This is my sister.” Warrick pauses there, turning his head slightly towards Beyah and nods. He knew that she would like into introduce herself – she never really was keen on Warrick doing things for her. Their eyes meet momentarily and a smile flickers onto his dark lips before he turns his gaze back towards Errant.
The question that Errant had asked was unknowingly a loaded one. Warrick searches his brain for an answer that was both truthful as well as not complicated. In all honesty, Warrick always had the sense that he hadn’t truly belonged anywhere for last year or so, roaming the outskirts of Beqanna and becoming a shadow amongst its population. At the very young age of four, Warrick ached for himself and his sister a place to call home. Perhaps this was their moment.
“Beqanna is our home,” he says to Errant simply. If the stallion wished to know more he could certainly ask, but Warrick was not one to share such personal details with a strange, winged-stallion from somewhere beyond. He knew at the same time, of course, that this mindset certainly didn’t apply to Beyah. He already knew without even looking at her that her kind eyes were delighted to meet someone new.
But that’s how their relationship was – a give and take.
WARRICK
we are infinite as the universe we hold inside