rhonen
molten eyes and a smile made for war
He makes his home in the common lands. At this point he knows every inch of the Forest and the River, but like Nihlus, he prefers the Meadow. It is unchanged from a time before, a time when Rhonen too had something to live for. He had tried to settle, even sired a child, but Sylva and the wily Karaugh had turned out less to his taste than he’d hoped, and he’d left before his daughter was even born. Atrani was a stronger tie, but he often lost the skeleton-girl; their reunions were always joyful but they didn’t seem able to stay together for any length of time either.
The end result, of course, is that he’s alone.
The copper boy doesn’t do particularly well with being alone, despite an often self-imposed exile from society. He shared a womb, after all, and a childhood with his twin, and so became accustomed to constant companionship at an early age. Add in having an older sister, and two doting parents, and you got a young man who really was at his best surrounded by loved ones. His solitary life now is taking a toll, but he doesn’t know how to fix it.
Rhonen is asleep, tucked deep into the shadow of a tall tree, curled up into a small shape that belies his real size. The sound of an approach wakes him and he is still for a moment (maybe they will pass him by) – when it is clear their paths will cross, he blinks away the last of his sleep and unfolds his long white legs while the unknown horse sighs heavily, heaving himself to his feet as gracefully as sixteen hands of equine can to face the stranger, fully expecting to be taller, or at least as tall, as anyone who could come across him in the Meadow. At a full sixteen hands, most of the residents of Beqanna fall below his own height, and he has learned to use it to his advantage.
So imagine his surprise when the stranger towers over him, instead.
The coppery stallion covers his rush of sudden interest with a scowl, but he can’t cover up the way he surveys the stranger from ear to hoof with a curiosity he can’t explain. “Do you always wake people up from perfectly good naps, bumbling around?” When in doubt, cover up any and all emotions with sharp words. The sharper the words, the better it works; but the boy’s gentle upbringing always seems to keep him from saying the harshest things his mind comes up with.
