10-21-2016, 07:41 PM
They come back, because this is all that is left to them - magma and memories.
Each of them gives a nod to the familiar buckskin stallion, and to the mare that smells like she has been here a long time. “We are here too,” they pipe up as one; some things still occur for them in unison, like lending their voices to a shared cause of support for Magnus. Still, they are curious and between them, their red and black eyes keep straying back to the big gray that threatens the peaceful nature of the land with his sharp bravado. They are curious to see how this will play out.
Spear & Spark
The scent of their father is remiss; the great black stallion is gone then? Perhaps in search of his beloved, they think, though neither of them gives this thought that they share between them a chance to be heard. Each of them understands the nature of the beast that is love, though again, neither of them offers up a thought on the matters of throbbing hearts and confused brains. Something happened to them out there, away from here, that neither of them talks about with the other --
The divide between them is as clear and deep as the first new river the great Mountain made here.
They remember him; the buckskin stallion that used to oversee their play amidst the rivers of lava that split the land like big hot veins that pulsed and beckoned to them. Something about the fire, genetic mayhap? Their big black sire used to have bits of it coursing hot and fierce in his blood, and ergo, bits of it must be in them. But now, the buckskin stands there in the midst of those that remain - so few, as it had been in the beginning when this land rose up out of the mists and revealed herself to them, and they come forward too, to look upon the gathering, and to listen.
It does not surprise them to learn that their father has conceded his might to another, maybe not so much his might as his right to lead them. They do not fret, remembering how the buckskin looked over them with kind, protective eyes and they can only imagine that he will turn that same gaze outward now, over the entirety of the land as he did in those earlier days when he was but a humble stranger like all the rest of them. Not so strange though, for he had learned the lay of this sulphuric land and her hot air much quicker than the rest, patrolling it day in and day out. Oh they had watched him! Followed him in their games, trying to see who could track him better than the other before he noticed (he always noticed, and they, as children, did not care).
Grown now, in some ways but not all, they look and they listen as they have always done.
Neither of them has much to say, but they look interested at the mention of envoys to other lands.
They are about to ask, but -
He comes, a stallion without a name but a shape that is monstrous and big.
He moves with threat as his intent, clear and sharp, as he barks at Magnus about a lack of followers and just conceding the land to him.
(They are curious - why does he want the land so bad if there are none in it? Who would follow him if he too, comes alone, unaided in that moment?)
Each of them gives a nod to the familiar buckskin stallion, and to the mare that smells like she has been here a long time. “We are here too,” they pipe up as one; some things still occur for them in unison, like lending their voices to a shared cause of support for Magnus. Still, they are curious and between them, their red and black eyes keep straying back to the big gray that threatens the peaceful nature of the land with his sharp bravado. They are curious to see how this will play out.