we learn to dive by choosing to fall
He doesn't know what calls him back to Beqanna but he can feel the need in his bones, in his gut. So he turns from his travels, turns back from his large ever-growing family of wilds out on his emerald isle to return to the land where his daughter roamed. Where he had tried and failed twice to make a herd life. He had comes to terms with it, managed to shrug off the feeling of disappointment and failure so that he could live.
Lessons had been learned and he had moved on.
He was back and it felt weird. Felt like he had to resettle into his skin. Magic ran so thick through even the air here that it always made him need a minute to resettle. The first time had he had crossed the borders he had found it...-
Quark? His brown eyes blinked as he saw the sunshine mare slide through the trees. She shifted and was soon in the air, flying towards the east. And so, as the sun sat high in the sky, he made his way through the snow and ice to follow her. It had been years since he had last seen her, since her lover had turned her into something else. Since she had seen nothing but pain and anger and resentment at it all. She was not burning this time.
He picks his pace up a little when the ground is clear of snow beneath him. When the snow crunches and crackles beneath his hooves he keeps a steady pace. He soon loses her, but follows the same direction, skirting around other herdlands until he comes to one that is thick with her scent and...other's scents.
He pauses at the edge of the boundary, smelling more than one male scent and the scents of a multitude of different females. All those were fainter, older than the males' whos' scents saturated the boundary...as well as Quark's. They were preparing for something, but he wasn't sure what.
However he is still hesitant to just cross a boundary so heavily....Fuck it. He slides past it, somehow managing to stumble into her scent, so fresh it is likely where she landed and changed back to horse form. He picks up his pace, ears pricked and listening, eyes sliding over the foliage until he finds her, golden (still) against the white background. And he smiles, stilling.
"Hello mo maise." He says, "Have you missed me?" His irish brogue full of the smile that curls his lips.
