"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The light blue colt was finally able to travel without mom and dad! He moves freely about the resort, his hooves sinking into the sand with every step. He hadn't met anyone outside of his family...though he was truly too young to notice or care.
He was having fun all by himself! At the heart of the island resort was....an island! Each section a different scenery, though his favorite was by the mountains! He stood just off the banks of the mountains, his hooves dipped into the chilling waters. He was tired from his trip, most of which was at a full on canter, and so he takes a drink from the water.
It was refreshing, instantly cooling his body. His head whips up and back towards the mountains...he heard gravel moving..but he didn't see anyone...maybe a wind blew? He didn't think much of it...until he heard it again! Hello... he calls out, this time he warily grows closer to the mountains in search of another.
Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free
He lands on the graveled shores where the mountains fall into the river, and once his white wings are folded nearly at his sides and his long mane tossed out of his blue eyes, he releases the ability to visualize him to others in the vicinity. It was a trick he had mastered when he was even younger than Bran, when he was desperate to compete with siblings who could make themselves invisible with a single thought. He does not remember the weeks it took him to learn how to use his vision manipulation to make himself invisible. That time seems so long ago.
“Hello!” He answers cheerily, stepping around a large boulder to more fully reveal himself to the blue piebald colt in front of him. There is something familiar about the boy, and when Gale draws close enough to see the stars on his coat, he understands what it is.
“You must be Aedan and Vita’s son!” There is a brief moment of hesitation before he names the mare that he is sure must be this colt’s mother. He has seen Aedan with the green pegasus more often than not, though he’s not yet had the chance to meet her and isn’t entirely positive about the name. “My name is Gale. What’s yours?”
His ears did not deceive him, another was lurking about. Hello! The voice was friendly and Bran isntantly grew relaxed.
His blue eyes settle on an interesting colored stag. A tobiano with a delicate cremello brindling, atop his head sat the curliest horns he has ever seen. He had never met the stag, yet he knows his family.
He ties him to mother and father, his pelt easily distinguishable to either parent. His stars matchin his father and his pattern matching his mother. He dips his head in a nod, Yes, I am he says with a smile. He was proud of his family, but it surely was nice to meet another equine. For a time he thought it was only his family of four to inhabit the islands.
The stag introduces himemself, Gale, he tucks the name into his memory. My name is Bran! It is nice to see a new face here, how long have you been here? Bran only being one...it wouldn't be too hard to be a resident longer than him, but still! He was just excited to hold a conversation out of his family.
Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free
The boy seems friendly, which knowing Aedan comes as no surprise. Gale knows that children inherit qualities from their parents (he has his father’s mane and mother’s wings, after all), but it is somehow strange to see bits of his star-friend looking up at him from the face of a near stranger.
Well, less a stranger now, as the boy introduces himself.
“Well, Bran. I’ve been here quite a while.” He looks back over his shoulder, toward the center island and his nest of fallen leaves. How many winters has he rested there now, he thinks, hiding from the grey and rainy weather?
“Almost seven years, I think.” The brindle stallion nods as he says this, confirming it to himself. Yes, seven years since Ruinam first told him of this place, which means four years since he’s been the one responsible for the island’s well-being. He’s been Chief longer than he’d lived here as a resident, and the realization is somewhat of a sobering one.
Yet he is still smiling as he looks down at the blue colt, his large white patches reminding Gale of the clouds overhead.
“You out exploring today, then? Found anything cool?”
Gale