The warmth of spring was a welcome change for the buckskin. He had grown tired of the bite of winter, the sharpness of air as it had stung his lungs. At least in Tephra the weather had been milder, warmer. He had long since grown accustomed to the sulphur in the air and become comfortable with the humidity, but it did mean that his winter coat had become stunted. Where years in the Gates had trained him to welcome winter (mild as it was there), Tephra required no such protection. He was as sleek in the dead of the season as he was during the summer—which was fine there, but brutal when he ventured elsewhere.
All of which to say that he was pleased to find the field more welcoming than it had been. He smiled as he made his way, head tipping backward for a moment so that he could consider the sun as it washed over him, the cloudless sky brilliantly blue. It was if Beqanna was as excited for the change in season as he.
When he glanced back down, he saw her, striped bold red and pristine white, standing out amongst the vegetation as surely as a swath of wildflowers. It made him smile, and his expression was warm as he made his way toward her. “Hello!” he called when he was close enough for her to see him in return, his own coat a dull, hammered gold in comparison to her unique hue. “My name is Magnus.” He wondered at how often he had offered up a similar greeting, at how many times he had begun the same way.
“It is a pleasant day today,” he smiled crookedly. “What brings you to the field?”
magnus
![[Image: gqYjsHr.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/KjqNDKxc/gqYjsHr.png)