I can beat the night, I'm not afraid of thunder
I am full of light, I am full of wonder
Life has never been better.
Neva has grown to love the Dale nearly as quickly as she has grown to love Weir. The little kingdom is quiet and peaceful and though there aren’t any other children to play with, she’s always well able to occupy herself by exploring the country around the Dale.
As for Weir himself, well, he’s the kind of father any little girl would wish for. The roan stallion is silly and kind, and knows SO many interesting things about the wide world around them. She’s fairly certain he must be the smartest horse in all of Beqanna, and possibly the most magical, considering he can make ice and snow out of thin air.
Under Weir’s care Neva has blossomed, growing from the scared, skinny little thing he’d found in the den to a happy and healthy two year old. Food and affection have given her the beginnings of beauty (not that she knows much about the concept), and constant tutelage has given her a sharp and inquisitive mind.
Which is in fact, partly why she’s seeking out her father today. During her exploration of the Dale’s southern border, she’d come across a very strange little mammal, one she’s certain doesn’t belong here in the Dale. And being that her father knows everything, she’s absolutely certain that he’ll be able to figure out where the little creature belongs.
She skips into the central part of the kingdom and plants her feet, raising her head to call out for her father. “Daddy! Daddy I need your help!” N E V A
 WEIR
"Season's changing," He comments as they walk, he and Darwin, side by side at a slow crawl. From the fresh emeralds of grass, to the sage of the leaves everything was turning. The shoots beneath them began to toughen, to yellow. The trees would soon burn brightly in crimson and orange, in yellow as bright as any dandelon. They did that didn't they? Change? It was beginning to feel too fast, time was ticking by much too quickly. Quickly, but how he treasured it.
In a blink Neva was grown, a beautiful young woman and smart to boot. He could not be more pleased at her eagerness to learn, to hear what he had to say- and he had much to say. Things filled his mind to the brim, begging to be released, to be shared. It was not often that children did such things as listen, not in this day and age, not in these lands. So few were good girls and good boys, too many out for power, for death and destruction. Not his kids, not his girls.
Weir had done his best to raise her, to do right by the frost covered child he had tucked under his arm and spirited away from the Den. Her Mother had not come, nor had he heard hide or hair of her around any parts, alas, all for the best. He would be pained to part with her now, though one day he was sullen to know she might go. That's what children do after all,grow up.
'Weir, what are you thinking?' Darwin asks, noting the pull at his friends lips, the tug at the corners which hinted at sadness.
The roan stallion sighed before answering, "She's growing up so fast." The sadness has no time to linger, to get the best of him. His thoughts turn to what was, to the present and not the future, not to what ifs.
Daddy!
Her calls echo over the empty fields, reaching him with little interference. "Neva?- Neva?!" He shouts back, consumed by blizzard before much else can be said. When he finally blows over, finally twists around her form he finds his solidity once again. From the hoof up the flakes mold back into flesh, building a horse where once there was none.
"Afternoon" He says with a smile, Darwin blinking up at them both. 'Hey there kid'
WINTER IS COMING
I can beat the night, I'm not afraid of thunder
I am full of light, I am full of wonder His voice calls out back to her and a smile instantly blossoms across her face. She knows he’ll know exactly what to do in this situation.
The wind picks up suddenly, bringing with it a furious blur of snow that twists around her body in a little whirlwind. She doesn’t run for cover however - she’s been Weir’s daughter long enough to know his many tricks. Her smile widens as the snow solidifies, building up from the ground to reveal the red roaned body of her father.
“Hey Daddy! Hey Darwin!” She skips forward to flash a grin at Darwin, and place a soft little kiss on her father’s cheek. “I found something you might find interesting!” With an enthusiastic hop she turns away, pausing once to make sure that her father and Darwin are paying attention. “Follow me!”
She dashes away at top speed, knowing they will be able to keep up with her easily (well, Darwin might need a little assistance from Weir), and heads in the direction of the southern border.
When they finally close in on her target she slows down to a quiet, creeping walk, brown eyes scanning the trees for the little creature that she’s seen earlier. The poor little thing had seemed distressed - she doesn’t want to scare it away!
Just as she’s turning away from an old pine, a flash of orange catches her eye - “there!” Her voice is in a low whisper as she points upwards with her speckled nose. A little pinkish brown face peers out of the foliage, surrounded by an impressive, bright orange mane. Little limbs, fingered hands, and a long thin tail (all equally as orange) are barely visible through the leaves. “I … I think it’s a monkey Daddy. But I don’t know what kind. It shouldn’t be here though, right? It belongs in the Jungle, doesn’t it?”
N E V A
I'm imagining a golden lion tamarin, for reference. 
WEIR
There is obviously no time to waste. As soon as the pair found themselves blinking into view, few hellos exchanged, young Neva is filled with excitement. That excitement soon leads to her bounding away calling for them to follow. As quick as her own hellos are over she is telling them of how she has something to show them, that they must come and see it for themselves. Well, Weir didn’t have to be asked twice, surely this was important.
Like a flash she is off, young legs carrying her quickly over the fields of the Dale. Weir laughs, taken with her enthusiasm that slowly bled into his own giddy excitement.
Legs were nonsense when you could travel in another manner especially with your tortoise soul in tow. With little prompting Weir grabs himself and Darwin, whooshing them both along the currents of air in a tumble of ice and snow. At first it had been most disconcerting this means of travel, he had even been sick a time or two but practice makes perfect, and in no time it was something he came to enjoy.
When she finally does slow Weir himself lingers in wisps, solidifying once more to creep along the southern border with the speckled child. Her eyes slowly scan the trees and he needs little more prompting to do so himself, observing the treeline with patient amber eyes.
He’s about to ask her what exactly they are looking for when she points out a curious creature peeking at them both through the green foliage. A small thing, its face dull against the shock of orange that surrounds it. Tiny fingers grasp at leaves as it watches them both with fearful concern, its dark gentle eyes portray its worry.
“Oh, it’s lovely Neva. Just splendid.” Weir whispers as he quietly watches the very out of place animal.
‘Leontopithecus rosalia’ Darwin adds calmly stretching his leather neck upwards towards the sky.
“A golden lion tamarin, or a golden marmoset. A bit lost maybe, or perhaps it was scared away from the Jungle during the War.” The sky had blackened from the many fires that ravaged the lands and it would be of no surprise if the Amazons had received their own share of that destruction.
‘They’re endangered you know and they move like squirrels in the trees. See its claws?’ Darwin is no stranger to the exceedingly overwhelming amount of information pinging around in the roaned man’s head.
WINTER IS COMING
I can beat the night, I'm not afraid of thunder
I am full of light, I am full of wonder He follows just as quickly as she’d expected, following behind her on a chilly winter wind. Once he solidifies and the creature is spotted, her eyes fix upon his, happy to see her own enthusiasm reflected there.
Darwin’s gaze follows Weir’s, and when he mentions the animal’s scientific name Neva does her best to replicate it. “Lee-on-toe-pith-i-cus rose-alia” Not perfect, but pretty close. She’s been trying hard to learn how to pronounce the tricky latin words and while it’s been slow going she’s made a definite improvement.
Weir speaks up and reveals the creature’s common name, which is far easier for Neva to pronounce. “Tamarin or marmoset.” Her eyes follow Weir’s and Darwin’s back up to the treetops, where the little worried face peers out at them below. “Poor thing.” A tear wells up at the corner of her eye when Darwin mentions that the species is endangered. Poor creature, to be struggling so much for existence in it’s own homeland, then to end up here, all alone and likely very afraid.
She turns her head to look at her father, concern seeping through her youthful voice. “You can help it, right daddy? You can help it get back home?” Her father’s powers are probably the best chance the creature has. After all, they are horses, and without Weir’s gifts there’s no way for them to even get close enough to the poor tamarin. And they are so far from the Jungle … it’s unlikely the little animal would be able to find its way home by itself. N E V A
WEIR
Monkeys are indeed fascinating creatures, as are many mammals. The most wonderous thing about monkey though is that they are very much like the king of mammals- man. Weir had seen several pictures of men. Drawings, photographs, diagrams, but he had ever only seen man twice in his life. With his own two eyes that is, he had heard countless tales of men though and they were all vastly different. Even the descriptions often strayed from what he knew to be physically and commonly possible. Here though was a grand creature indeed, Leontopithecus rosalia. Even as it trembled in the treetops Weir found it glorious, glorious of course but rather sad indeed.
“Very good Neva yes, Tamarin is much easier to say but if we are to learn things I think it best to know the proper name at least.”
“A good find Neva, terribly far from home yes but excellent specimen to observe. Though of course it just could have been looking for a new den for the day, strayed off course a bit far. They find a new one each day, don’t like to leave their scent in one place for long.”
Darwin easily plucked knowledge from Weir’s skull, browsing through highlights and bullets until he got to the meat of the matter and the more interesting facts. The useful ones, not the nonsense that rattled like a never ending encyclopedia throughout the vast caverns of the brain.
“Too true but it must be terribly lonely, they live in groups usually I should think. Most primates do.”
Of course then he’s struck with a sudden question that brings a look of surprise to wash over his enamored features. Help it Daddy He? Him? Of course, of course she meant him, who else? How though? How does one help a tiny creature back home without scaring the thing half to death?
“Excellent suggestion, I’ll just..hmm I’ll think on it. Most delicate matter, I’m sure it would be frightened beyond all reason.” The rusty male bites his cheek as he considers how exactly they would do this, there had to be a way. “I’d hate to trap or cage it really. I wonder if it might be enticed with some local fruit?” The thoughts spill out even before he considers them, gently letting the train chug along full speed until something of use came to him.
WINTER IS COMING
I can beat the night, I'm not afraid of thunder
I am full of light, I am full of wonder Her eyes light up in pleasure as Weir compliments her efforts with the Latin. The language is just so tricky, with its long words and in some cases, unexpected pronunciations. It’s nice to know that her daddy has noticed how hard she’s working at it. “I agree! Especially since the proper name can tell us so much about the animal. Leon means lion right?” From the greek originally, she thinks she remembers Weir telling her. Probably a reference to the creature’s lovely mane of hair. She has no idea what the rest of the name means though.
Darwin plucks information from Weir’s mind, rattling off a description of the tamarin’s habits. It reminds her of something she’s been meaning to ask Weir about for some time now - drinking from the Dale’s magical pool. Neva is three now, an adult in her own right. She would love to have her chance to see her own soul in corporeal form, to have her own companion that knows her so well … if only her father approves. But, now is not the time. The little tamarin needs their help - they can’t leave it here all alone. She’ll just have to start that conversation when they’ve figured out how to help the creature.
The little monkey suddenly begins to vocalize overhead and Neva’s head snaps upward. “Oh! It sounds just like a bird!” Her brown eyes widen in fascination. She’d known that monkeys could make sort of hooting and grunting noises, but this light chirping is absolutely lovely!
Weir suggests tempting the little creature down out of the tree with some fruit and Neva perks up. “I know there’s a little blackberry patch nearby!” She’d accidentally found her way into the patch one day, and ended up with a number of scratches for her trouble. “Do you think those would work?” Her speckled head cocks to the side momentarily, considering. “I can’t think of anything else close by.” Weir would likely have a better idea that she though.
N E V A
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