and everything I can remember. [open]

[Set]

“Don’t you ever tame your demons; but always keep them on a leash.”

They are always drawn to him. In spite of his baser nature, his self-indulgent tendencies; despite his faults, they always come.

He turns that wild grin on her even as he flashes past and beyond, his breath thick and heaving. Running from? Set has never run from a thing in his life, ever. His shoulders, roped in thick scars bespeaking of a gross, long-ago injury, roll as he dives to the right, hooves splashing through a cold stream. He takes no offense to her question – two parts arrogance, one part confidence. Instead, he circles back, coming up behind her and then to one side. One amber-colored eye seeks out her brown one, his scarred expression the picture of a boy up to the greatest of mischiefs. His ears flick forward and then back again as the two sweep down the Meadow, his long legs slowing just enough to match her youthful stride. Sweat slicks his neck and chest and the burn in his muscles is glorious. Continuing to ignore her question, he laughs again; a daring wink, and a nip at her withers, he pushes her on playfully. He crows with the thrill of living, cold fingers of air tangling with his already knotted mane.  

Enraptured with this baser instinct he does not notice her until they are passing her for a second time. By now his lungs are nothing but burn, his nostrils flared wide. The ground is soft and heavy beneath his hooves. They leave long furrows in it as he slides to a stop, whirling on his haunches, eager gaze seeking out the face from his past. “Aseret …”. He does not realize he’s whispered it aloud, playmate momentarily forgotten as he moves closer, lips pressed tightly against one another. Not Aseret. There is little but a blood-bond to tie the two together – he had gone on to rule the Chamber, she to raise a family as Priam’s Queen, their life paths quietly diverging from one another … but Aseret was his sister. Lungs still heaving, he bumps his nose against Mary’s shoulder affectionately and then steps closer to the stranger, inspecting not-Aseret with n unreadable expression.

There is a long stretch of silence before his face splits into a wide grin, yellow eyes glinting with his earlier amusement. “You remind me of someone I once knew,” he says simply. He yawns, shaking his damp coat out with a low groan before turning back. “Set.” The magician introduces himself to his running companion with an obvious wink.  

SET

alliance champion, once king, mage