out of the ashes - kavi, bergamont, erebor

[Erebor]

We are at war. There will be scars.

Like his mother, he loves the pine forests. Although really, he's coming to love every inch of the Chamber. He is lucky, although he does not know it – many before him have been born to positions like his, and found their intended home wholly unsuitable. But to Erebor, it is a perfect fit. It is almost as though he had been born from the land, rather than from two of those most dedicated to it.

When his mother tells him to wait, the boy does not think of doing anything but obeying. He follows her to just within earshot, knowing her well enough to understand that she is likely to call for him. He does not follow her from a sense of codependence; much as she does not fear for his welfare, he does not crave her attentions or her presence. Rather, he understands that she needs him to make an appearance, that for whatever reason it is impossible for him to greet these horses with her right now. And because he is Erebor, he does not see it as a slight, does not resent being made to wait as perhaps most colts would. He simply waits.

And when she calls him, his movements toward her are swift. He sizes up the various participants in the conversation with quick eyes as he approaches. He can see that Straia knows them somehow; it's written in the familiarity of her body, the way she relates to them. He may be young, but he is already starting to read these things. The boy is nothing if not precocious.

As he approaches, they would no doubt see his father in him. He is as black as Warship, with few markings. He is still young and has yet to grow into his body, but even so he carries himself with a certain dignity, as though he were born to walk these forests (which, really, he pretty much was). Reaching the group, he greets them with a dignified nod.

"Kavi, Bergamot," he greets each in turn. His voice is calmer, more sedate than most foals. There is no childish excitement to his tones, but his voice is pleasant nonetheless. The sensation is almost that of talking to an adult in a child's body. "Hello." he offers with a gentle ghost of a smile. It's not quite as polished and diplomatic as it will be when he's older, but especially for one so young…well, it's uncanny.

Erebor

Native Prince of the Chamber

warship x straia