08-24-2016, 11:51 AM
Kilte
R
Mind Over Matter
T
his was Kilter’s home. The cragged walls of the mountains, the looming umbrella of the forest, the baying of the wolves - this was all he knew of the world. He knew, to some extent, that mother and father were important. They were the king and queen after all, and he a prince - but in the grand scheme of things, did it really matter? Did a crown on your head signify that you meant more than others? Did ruling a land of the dead mean that you wielded something that no other had? Kilter was not sure.
He was not sure of much these days. Just that he was lonely. It was the cliche ver batim of being surrounded by all, but still somehow managing to feel oh so singular. It was true, he had two other siblings - identical to him in nature, so near that even their mother had trouble naming them out when they were younger. Now, Kilter, Keel, and Knoxlyn had come a bit more into their own - their features (and personalities) were beginning to ebb and flow, eroding the sands of mimicry of their genes. But did a matching coat and features mean that you always had someone there for you? Did the bond of Topsail’s heavy stretched womb mean that the trio would always accompany one another?
No - it did not seem so. Instead, Kilter had edged away from the two. They had something he did not - they had this string that tied them together, knotted tightly much more so than with Kilter. They had this power inside of them. They had this ability to speak with one another silently - no silence to cut open the expanse between them. They could speak without speaking - and is that a surprise, considering mother had the same gift? But Kilter did not - and the stark realization that he would never be able to whisper secrets with his brother and sister left him feeling slightly hollow - slightly empty - slightly bitter.
K
ilter had been running with the wolves (as best he could on his growing, gangly legs) - something he preferred to do often. If he could not feel at one with his own siblings, he knew that the newborn wolf pups would romp and tumble with him. There was no need for language there - there was no other sound save for the thrum of hoof and paw on soil and the veritude of wolf bark and bray and Kilter’s equine noises.
Suddenly - the wolf ahead was shut off to the side, a flurry of ice cold wind and flakes of snow sending his body off kilter. The pack slowed, howling their alert to the Valley, before dispersing into the trees. Kilter too weaned into a slow trot, and then a walk - following the few wolves that were left into a small clearing.
There, a stallion and a mare stood, at the edge of the Valley - and a wall of ice lay behind her. Kilter’s eyes widened, watching the wall form from thin air, and a small shiver ran through his spine. Did everyone have something magic inside them but him? He stepped closer, a wolf shadowing close by his side. He had met few others save for the wolves he ran with and his gifted siblings. This - well this was his first chance to separate from the trio, to become his own person - not just another grullo prince.
He looked to the wolf, who was complacent and steady in his actions - clearly there was no threat here. “This is my home.”, he said once he had cleared the tree line and crept closer to the duo. “I like it here. We have wolves. And a forest that you can run in for ages.” Kilter gave a glance to the stallion who seemed to wield the power of winter. The wolf did not seem to mind him either - so this must be okay.