Summer isn’t yet stifling, but it promises to become so in the following weeks. Already, the heat sticks to him in the late parts of the afternoons. Ramiel has responded by becoming somewhat of an early riser. He’s not quite up with the birds, but by the time the deer come out to graze in their small family groups, the young stallion is right there beside them. He takes his meals when he can, though often it’s difficult to find the time. Becoming a leader had been something he’d known about for a long time before it actually happened, but in practice, it’s far more than he ever thought it would be. In truth, he doesn’t believe it is possible to fully prepare oneself for shouldering so much responsibility – it’s a load that must be carried firsthand.
On rare days free of obligations, he tries to enjoy himself. Discovering that he can float while a ghost has been one novel source of entertainment of his. The grey stallion justifies his practice of it as benefiting their nonexistent army, (should the threat of battle ever reach them, he’ll see the lines a mile away) but truly, it’s mostly just for his sake. Today is one such day. From his vantage point, hovering over the glistening river, he can see all the way to their southern borders. He’s not really looking for anyone (he’s more focused on not falling to a certain, watery death) but out of the corner of his eye, he sees the dark shape pass the invisible line and cross into the kingdom.
Diplomats probably, he thinks, but his movements are no less hurried. He doesn’t like to keep anyone waiting, and as he lowers himself to the ground, he sees that the stranger obviously doesn’t believe in waiting either. Ramiel frowns, touching down on the lush, forgiving grass before moving off immediately. Having been raised firmly in the belief that borders are meant to be respected, he doesn’t appreciate when they are disregarded. In his haste, he forgets to solidify himself. When he comes upon the intruder, a mare, he is less than he usually is. She, however, is completely familiar.
Ea.
He dredges up her name from deep within his memories, from when they were children on outings in the meadow. It occurs to him, just after, that she was meant to live here. She was meant to be raised alongside him with his sister Joscelin and brother Dalten, and then take the throne as well. She was meant to secure the alliance between the Dale and Jungle (the Amazon-voice here like Josc would be there) that Tiphon and Scorch had formed. But all of that was years ago, and neither her nor Dalten had ever stayed. It was supposed to benefit all parties, but all he had gotten out of it was losing his best friend to the Sisterhood.
Ramiel doesn’t hold it against Ea; the promises of their parents are in the past, as far as he’s concerned. He wonders what she thinks of it, though, wonders why she’s come. Is it at her mother’s behest or of her own accord? His golden eyes access her with a newfound appreciation. They’ve both grown, and lately, he’s starting to notice his own appreciation of females. He remembers her to be rather serious; however, it doesn’t diminish his warm smile. “Ea,” he says, her name light and airy on his tongue. Ramiel wants to ask her if she’d gotten lost between the Jungle and Dale, but he doesn’t think she’d appreciate the joke. Instead, he adds, “it’s nice to see you again. Are you staying or just visiting?”
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again