The roan had been in the Dale for some time now, watching the world pass by as everything here stood still. Seemingly unchanged, stuck. Not nature itself, not the plants and animals that blossomed each spring. Nor the crisp snow falls, or stinging rains that cleansed the land to be made anew. The herd, the equine that lingered in all but abandoned meadows, that was what seemed unchanged to him.
Weir had not been around for long at all on this Earth, but at times he felt that he had existed a million lifetimes. That he himself, the spirit, the soul was on a forever looping pattern. Created again, and again and again, to wander the Earth. Seeking out each circumstance that beckoned him, that pulled him from all corners to where he was needed. Places he had never heard of or dreamed of, but knowledge. Knowledge leaked from his core, he absorbed information like a sponge. Countless instances, diagrams, words, images, all things remained engraved in his brain once he had set it to them. He had been here some time now and not once had he seen the protector of the hills, the river, the valleys. On this day, things had changed.
It was like a clock, the battery having stilled long ago, and now the energy replaced. He felt a pull, everything moving forward all at once. Amber eyes, training their gaze on a sight that he had waited to see for so long. The glowing burned, renewed, it filled him with such a sense of contentment. There were no answers for the occurrence, no knowledge that he could derive from a book. The written language he had learned back before he had left home for the first time. A knowledge gifted to him by his uncle. His feet moved him closer, automatically without waiting to be told to do so. Ramiel's call reverberated through his skull, and he went.
He answered. Without question for perhaps the first time in his life, in this life. Tiphon's aura, his glow back lit the gray young man in a brilliance that was commanding. Weir bent his head listening to words, sketching them, remembering them. The familiar chalk board of his mind, filling with scrawling letters. Things were changing, they were to awaken, to restore the Dale to a proper existence. He was ready, looking up to meet the lads eyes firmly. A simple nod in his acknowledgement and understanding, of his congratulations. He would not allow this simple, peaceful place, to bear a load on the boy alone. (For a boy he would be to Weir, a humble inquisitive, kind boy) He would share it, with him, with the others, as an equal.
He felt settled somehow. Like a compass that had been spinning, finally chose to point his way,to still itself from its constant turn in direction. He found his voice then, clearing his throat in a hurrumphing manner."I want to stay." The words at first small, most unlike the red stallion, but once he had found the words they gained momentum. Emitting from his maw once again, with more conviction,more certainty.
"I want to stay.."
