i want you to remember; any

[Lior]

He finds himself in the meadow. How long had it been since he had ventured from Nerine? Nayl, the Iron Queen, would fair well without him. She never had truly needed him. She had solely built that land, made from salt and sand, forged by fire and steel will, and he had simply been her guardian and later on, lover.

The tall man stands quietly against the wet cold of winter as small white flakes seek him out, landing across his leather wings, melting to nothing and dampening the thick black pelt. Warm breath curls like tiny cumulus clouds as he allows the cold to sink into his bones, brighten his mind, awaken the numbness that had laid dormant. He misses his children but they too are growing and becoming their own identities. The dark male grunts as he shifts his weight from one hip to the next, the thick cords of his tangled mane laying against his scarred neck.

Lior stands against the landscape, dotting the white and grays of frost like a black smudge. He keeps his wings tugged against his spine. The fringe of his hooves are saturated and cold and he feels the dull ache in his ankles but prefers to chill at the moment. He does not know why he came to the meadow but he is here now. The snow starts to thicken to fat flakes that fall with gentle little patters against his rough hide.

I want you to remember