03-18-2016, 08:32 PM
WEIR
"Season's changing," He comments as they walk, he and Darwin, side by side at a slow crawl. From the fresh emeralds of grass, to the sage of the leaves everything was turning. The shoots beneath them began to toughen, to yellow. The trees would soon burn brightly in crimson and orange, in yellow as bright as any dandelon. They did that didn't they? Change? It was beginning to feel too fast, time was ticking by much too quickly. Quickly, but how he treasured it.
In a blink Neva was grown, a beautiful young woman and smart to boot. He could not be more pleased at her eagerness to learn, to hear what he had to say- and he had much to say. Things filled his mind to the brim, begging to be released, to be shared. It was not often that children did such things as listen, not in this day and age, not in these lands. So few were good girls and good boys, too many out for power, for death and destruction. Not his kids, not his girls.
Weir had done his best to raise her, to do right by the frost covered child he had tucked under his arm and spirited away from the Den. Her Mother had not come, nor had he heard hide or hair of her around any parts, alas, all for the best. He would be pained to part with her now, though one day he was sullen to know she might go. That's what children do after all,grow up.
'Weir, what are you thinking?' Darwin asks, noting the pull at his friends lips, the tug at the corners which hinted at sadness.
The roan stallion sighed before answering, "She's growing up so fast." The sadness has no time to linger, to get the best of him. His thoughts turn to what was, to the present and not the future, not to what ifs.
Daddy!
Her calls echo over the empty fields, reaching him with little interference. "Neva?- Neva?!" He shouts back, consumed by blizzard before much else can be said. When he finally blows over, finally twists around her form he finds his solidity once again. From the hoof up the flakes mold back into flesh, building a horse where once there was none.
"Afternoon" He says with a smile, Darwin blinking up at them both. 'Hey there kid'
In a blink Neva was grown, a beautiful young woman and smart to boot. He could not be more pleased at her eagerness to learn, to hear what he had to say- and he had much to say. Things filled his mind to the brim, begging to be released, to be shared. It was not often that children did such things as listen, not in this day and age, not in these lands. So few were good girls and good boys, too many out for power, for death and destruction. Not his kids, not his girls.
Weir had done his best to raise her, to do right by the frost covered child he had tucked under his arm and spirited away from the Den. Her Mother had not come, nor had he heard hide or hair of her around any parts, alas, all for the best. He would be pained to part with her now, though one day he was sullen to know she might go. That's what children do after all,grow up.
'Weir, what are you thinking?' Darwin asks, noting the pull at his friends lips, the tug at the corners which hinted at sadness.
The roan stallion sighed before answering, "She's growing up so fast." The sadness has no time to linger, to get the best of him. His thoughts turn to what was, to the present and not the future, not to what ifs.
Daddy!
Her calls echo over the empty fields, reaching him with little interference. "Neva?- Neva?!" He shouts back, consumed by blizzard before much else can be said. When he finally blows over, finally twists around her form he finds his solidity once again. From the hoof up the flakes mold back into flesh, building a horse where once there was none.
"Afternoon" He says with a smile, Darwin blinking up at them both. 'Hey there kid'
WINTER IS COMING