05-06-2015, 11:22 AM
 It’s a small, polite crowd they have assembled today. No life-changing, Beqanna-wide alterations will be discussed; no wars or whispers of dissention will be mentioned. It’s a simple group with simple exchanges, and yet, it feels almost revolutionary in its simplicity. There is no measuring of each word, no withholding of questions. They are free to mingle and learn from each other without the weight of kingdom pressures upon their backs. Talulah has, so far, been so worried about exposing Ramiel to the work side (recruiting, diplomacy) that she’s almost forgotten the life side. The fun side that makes all the work worthwhile. Here, talking freely with other easy-going horses, it’s easy to see the first hand benefits of humble conversation. Ramiel, with his black-hole mind, drinks it all in. It’s the first he’s really heard of the army (with his peace-loving mother oddly quiet on the caste) and it intrigues him greatly. The idea of honor and defense are deeply rooted seeds in his young brain, and having the training to do just that sounds irresistible. He’s not sure if he would want his own pair of horns, though. As impressive as they look, they also look awfully heavy – maybe Kreios could hold them up on his massive head, but Ramiel doesn’t think his will grow as large. He glances up at them once more before his eyes track down to meet the older male’s gaze. “Have you ever used them in battle?” The colt knows nothing of fighting and hasn’t seen it for himself (save for the impromptu challenge he saw on his way here; the correlation with fall is lost on him) but he thinks this stallion must not be a stranger to it. The other boy seems far more reserved than Ramiel. The Dalean notices how Finner looks at the ground and he looks downward at first, too, thinking Finner’s found some interesting bug. Seeing nothing, he shrugs and smiles wider at the colt. Maybe it is a child’s game in the Gates, he thinks, or maybe they just raise scaredy-colts. Either way, the black and gold boy seeks to set Finner’s mind at ease. He relaxes his forward posture and tries not to stare at the grullo when he addresses him. “It’s great to meet you, Finner. Well, my mom had a horn when she was in the army. But she decided to focus on diplomacy and left the army.” He looks at Talulah (who nods her assent) before focusing on the colt again. “I guess it just fell off after that.” It’s a fairly horrifying thought he’s never considered until that moment, and he grimaces a little. The metal mare nudges her son affectionately (realizing just after she does so that he probably doesn’t appreciate the action in their present company). “It actually more or less dissolved.” Dissolved much like her short stint in the military. Kreios looks more like a lifer, like the kind of soldier who would one day be grizzled and gray with a lifetime of experience. But he’s unlike any soldier she’s ever met. He’s soft and modest, traits she hopes her son is taking note of. “We are from the Dale,” she says to the group. And for once, that’s all she wants to say about their home. She realizes Finner is a prince by recognizing his mother’s name, but doesn’t mention that she knows. “It’s nice to escape and dive into different waters, though.” For the children’s sake, she poses a question, though she’s interested to hear Kreios’s answer if he’s so inclined. “What’s the most interesting thing you have ever seen?” lady of the Dale |
