The forest suits him in his current state of mind.
He welcomes the shadows, because so many have come to pass over his thoughts. He likes the twisting, narrow corridors between the trees, because life is similarly complicated and convoluted. Even the little bit of light that manages to fall through the branches above isn’t pure. There is grittiness, a raw struggle for life, in every aspect of the forest. From the trees that stretch into the unrestricted air above down to the smaller plants below – those that fight each other for resources, leaning and jockeying for pockets of light – the circle of life and death is constant.
Ramiel finds tremendous comfort (and sadness, too) in the natural order of the world. It is perhaps odd, considering all of the time he has spent outside of a solely linear progression. His many brushes with the supernatural and alien both have only grounded him more in reality, however, rather than the opposite. Why search for the impossible when you are already amongst the wondrous? Why spend a lifetime waiting for fortune and power to strike when fortune comes with the opportunity of the everyday, and power is found in the strength of your body and mind?
He is still lost in the swirl of such thoughts when the branch cracks behind him. But when he sees who it is, his mind clears instantly.
“You are getting clumsy in your old age,” he closes the distance between them, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. “Fortunately for me, each year only leaves me more handsome than the last.” Ramiel is never so casual and self-referencing around anyone else. Only his sister can bring this easy-going side of him out, and after today’s shadowed path of thoughts and memories he's trudged down, he’s glad she can.
His golden eyes move away from the mirror that is Joscelin’s own metallic gaze, accessing her in the same way he always does each time they meet. He hasn’t ever forgotten her darkest days after the quest they shared (how could he?). He remembers, in vibrant detail, how she’d crumbled and cracked. How the clearing had been pock-marked by her light. How their youngest sibling had nearly been caught in the crossfire of Joscelin’s delicate energy. He is happy to see that she does not flicker today, her barometer of emotional pressure. Perhaps the forest has a dampening, negating effect on them all. Before he can ask why she’s taken it upon herself to leave the humid jungle like he’s left the Dale for the day, they are joined by another.
“Hello there,” the grey says to the dun, his features still warmed by the presence of his kin. Little does he know that both are, in fact, his relatives. There is a slight familiarity to this man, though. His build and almost porcelain color remind Ramiel of someone that he cannot put a name to. It is a slight curiosity that leaves a question in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t pursue it for now. Besides, so many horses claim similar lineages in Beqanna. If they are related, it is likely a branch too far down the tree to really matter. “Please join us, if you’d like the company.” He looks at Joscelin briefly, wondering if she’ll care that their reunion has been unintentionally crashed. Not that he will let her decide for them anyway; he is the oldest sibling, after all. “I’m Ramiel.”
ooc: ee, sorry for the ridiculously long wait. <33 finally getting back into the swing of things post-holidays