As Talulah’s first child, Ramiel, too, is a much-smothered boy.
He longs for adventures not yet undertaken, paths not yet traveled, and conversations not yet spoken. There is a wide world outside of the quiet Dale. In his naivety, he thinks he will be safe to undertake them all now. He thinks that monsters only exist in his mother’s imagination, false etchings meant to keep him from doing everything he wants to do. For now, he believes he is placating his metal-mother by remaining in the kingdom despite his desire to wander further.
He is certainly glad to have found a play-mate in his confined space. As the black colt darts off across the river, he hears Joscelin mimic his HEY and he chuckles. In most cases, rules were meant to be followed. But sometimes, it was much too fun to break them. And in an instant, the filly has found her own creative way to do so. She floats over the water’s surface – a breathing river-ghost – and he laughs openly. Who was the cheater now? Ramiel realizes he can’t fault her for using her own unique talents. When she reaches the fir tree just before him, however, it’s clear that she was right to use them.
“I’m not sure about fair, but you won it square.” He grins at her, trying to catch his breath. He thinks that maybe both of their mothers had been rather lax on their definition of fair. While he takes a moment to breath, it occurs to him that they have done it. They have left the safety of their river-border for the vast unknown beyond. It’s thrilling, this freedom. All the same, though, he’s glad to have a co-defendant should there be consequences.
This part of the Dale grows unspoiled and wild. The trees cluster together in tight groupings, and where they are absent, mountain scrub soaks up the sunshine. It will be tough going if they decide to continue up the mountain. He thinks the view must be magnificent; he wonders if it’s worth it. Joscelin has other ideas for now, and having won the race, he lets her decide their next adventure. “I like to jump over them, but hadn’t thought to look underneath.” Ramiel says it somewhat disappointed, as if he is missing out on something he should have thought of sooner. His eyes scan the copse around them, looking for a good specimen. The black colt brightens when he finds one. “That one will work, won’t it?” As surely an expert on log-turning, he looks to the filly for confirmation.
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again