our demons are all around us; rodrik

[Rodrik]

The hour of the wolf is no stranger to the red stallion. He has become accustomed to spending sleepless nights in the wasteland. It was only with the boredom of walking around Pangea that he wanders across the distant land of Beqanna. The distance, he hopes, well make him collapse, to find sleep at last. Exhaustion does not come easily for him tonight. He can feel the faint touch of unease, slowly creeping forward. Anxiety clings to him like a leech, sucking the very essence out of his soul. This paranoia will surely drive him to insanity soon enough. Rodrik peers through the darkness of the forest. The silver light of the moon lingers just enough for him to make out the sleeping silhouettes of the other horses as he moves forward. He routes himself away from their path, steering clear from anyone on this dark night. Eventually, Rodrik comes to settle in a quiet place of the darkness. It is not far from those he passed, but enough to find solitude for himself. However, his isolation does not last long. The scent of another is picked up quickly. It is a long and forgotten scent, making his nares flare several times as he takes it in. Rodrik’s ears flicker to the right and then behind him. His heart pumps fiercely—as if he can hear the calling of the Chamber’s own heart again. “Rodrik,” he hears in the familiar husky voice. His heart drops suddenly. The stillness of his heart makes it feel as if the world has come to stop as well. But, somehow, he turns to face the one who calls him. In this moment he feels timeless, as if he is everything, living and breathing with the forest and all that it inhabits. It is a strange sensation—a forbidding feeling he should never be allowed to feel—as if he is whole, a forgotten piece placed back into his soul. Rodrik’s expression is neutral as he looks into her dark eyes. He takes a step forward towards her, uncertain but certain at the same time. “Brunhild,” he says softly, but more sure than ever at this moment. “I thought you were gone,” he admits so openly to her. Rodrik can feel the ease of the conversation, the masquerade he did not need to put on around her. Their games had always been as such, but eventually there had become something between them. It was something he had hold onto all these years but never quite understood what it was truly. And here she finds him, alone in the darkness, not blood-stained like their last meeting. Rodrik does not appear to be the monster he was after she disappeared; he appears as he was before, but much has changed since then.

character info: here | character reference: here | image © rostyslav zagornov