05-30-2019, 10:52 PM
He is napping in the heart of Loess, away from his friends and his brother and trying so very hard not to feel <I>alone</i> when the dream of the meadow and the rose-gold trickster invades his mind. Grunting quietly, he opens his eyes and sits up, feeling a compulsion in his legs that is hard to ignore. Climbing slowly to his hooves and stifling a yawn, he turns to the southeast and sets off, and unlike his brother he doesn’t have to worry about the guards stopping him and demanding he stay with his parents.
He’s not a little prince, you see; he isn’t important to the higher-ups in Loess, and he kind of just... exists here. It makes sneaking off to do mischievous things <I>so</i> much easier, but some days he wishes that he had parents who cared as much about him as Malone’s do. Sure, they share a father, but Malone is born of love and not lust, and therefore his existence means so much more to the Loessians than Meraxes.
Golden hooves bound over the border of Loess and into the forest that skirts it, and he is light on his hooves as he travels. His nose picks up a hint of his brother on the wind though, and he pauses, confused. Wasn’t Malone just seriously hurt not too long ago? Why would he be slinking off into the forest where he could get lost? The vision of the meadow flashes again in his mind and he sets off again with a grumble – he'll worry about his little brother later. Starsin will probably tell him that it’s <I>his</i> fault Malone snuck off, anyways. Whatever.
As the trees thin he sees the Mountain ahead, and he slows, suddenly filled with awe. He emerges from the trees slowly into the meadow that he had dreamt of, and he looks around to see the other horses gathering, with the rose-gold mare at the center of it all. A small figure is already near her hooves and he gasps as he recognizes his brother, bounding forward to brush his nose against Malone’s feathery wings. “Shouldn’t you be at home resting, brother?” he gently scolds, then looks up to Djinni. “Hi, I’m Meraxes,” he adds quietly, unsure of if he’s supposed to speak or not.
He’s not a little prince, you see; he isn’t important to the higher-ups in Loess, and he kind of just... exists here. It makes sneaking off to do mischievous things <I>so</i> much easier, but some days he wishes that he had parents who cared as much about him as Malone’s do. Sure, they share a father, but Malone is born of love and not lust, and therefore his existence means so much more to the Loessians than Meraxes.
Golden hooves bound over the border of Loess and into the forest that skirts it, and he is light on his hooves as he travels. His nose picks up a hint of his brother on the wind though, and he pauses, confused. Wasn’t Malone just seriously hurt not too long ago? Why would he be slinking off into the forest where he could get lost? The vision of the meadow flashes again in his mind and he sets off again with a grumble – he'll worry about his little brother later. Starsin will probably tell him that it’s <I>his</i> fault Malone snuck off, anyways. Whatever.
As the trees thin he sees the Mountain ahead, and he slows, suddenly filled with awe. He emerges from the trees slowly into the meadow that he had dreamt of, and he looks around to see the other horses gathering, with the rose-gold mare at the center of it all. A small figure is already near her hooves and he gasps as he recognizes his brother, bounding forward to brush his nose against Malone’s feathery wings. “Shouldn’t you be at home resting, brother?” he gently scolds, then looks up to Djinni. “Hi, I’m Meraxes,” he adds quietly, unsure of if he’s supposed to speak or not.