the darkest nights produce the brightest stars
Fennick’s new responsibility sat heavily on his shoulders, but it didn’t seem like a burden. It did, however, mean that more was required of him. He need to be better, he needed to endeavor to deserve it. More importantly, telling himself that someone else would do it was no longer a valid option. Certainly, someone else would do it, but the assumption could not be made. The Gates had assumed they were safe, and look how that turned out.
And so it began with this meeting. The large black stallion already wore his new wings like a cloak, though he had yet to use them for anything other than decoration. He would need some practice, before he bucked the rules of gods and men. Despite Fennick’s determination to be better, he couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him when Thorunn and Gallows beat him to the punch. Fennick wasn’t about to pretend to be a diplomat. Gallows, he knew, would say the right thing for their home. Fennick could be a helpful shadow. He slipped in next to the mares and offered them a hesitant smile.
“Thorunn, Gallows, it’s good to see you.” And truly, he meant it, and not just because they could do most of the talking. He would, of course, add his two cents should they be necessary.
He then turned his attention to the amazon mare, and this greeting was not so easy. He looked at her with interest. She smelled like the rainforest, like climbing vines and ancient trees. To Fennick, the Amazons seemed very mysterious, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued to see one in his home.
“I’m Fennick.” He said it quietly, and looked to Gallows. Her words caused a smile to tug up at his lips. She was very blunt, this one, and he found he liked it because it was so contrary to his own nature. Someone had to say what they were all thinking.