Any

[Ruan]

Ruan

He blinked into the blinding sunlight, the white of his coat glaring like a beacon. His purple spots stood out more than he thought they ever had before. It was brighter out here than within the forests he kept to, but he needed a change. Being a ruler was monotonous. Sometimes... lonely. Even for a man surrounded by a loving family. Perhaps he just needed to be away for a short time, an hour. Or two. Then back again.

He wished he could take the form of his wolf, but that was locked away from his grasp. It was only due to Reagan's magic that he could do it at all.

So he paced. And then he stood still and looked across the meadow. He thought of each child he brought home in his lifetime. Which only dragged his mind down a painful path, and he thought of Kilter, his little wolf pup he couldn't save. Probably dead now. His fault. The little prince had felt like his first child despite not being of his blood, not even adopted either. Just a magician's son that shared such a surprising and deep connection with the wolves of the Valley. Damn, his heart hurt. He could never even express how much the boy had meant to him, clearly still meant to him.

He sighed, his heart heavy. Then walked to the edge of a pool of water nearby and dropped himself to its bank. He stared at his sober reflection in pained silence.

[Etojo]

There was always one who broke the sunshine of the day with their own grey cloud of self-pity. Of late he had worn that role well. Yet as he strolled gloomily to the water’s edge, he realised - much to his seemingly permanent annoyance of all things alive - a lone figure, solemnly poised and as still as a rock had beaten him to the chase. The poor fool he thought with a tinge of mirth. Perhaps it was the years he’d spent unsocialised in the wilderness, but it always felt good to witness another who cradled a heart bound more morose than he. But that wasn’t the only thing that tickled his mirth and tugged at his lips, forming a half smirk. As far as Etojo judged, the fellow looked ridiculous, perhaps the stallion was wishing his spots away, he’d try anything too if he’d looked like that. A deeper part of his consciousness told him that once upon a time, he himself had in fact done just that. The past was the past though, and he and this fellow dwelled solidly in the now. Generally, Etojo would have kept the gap between them wide, but his throat felt parched and as such, his thirst drew him closer. And because today it amused him to do so, his hooves led him unnecessarily close alongside this odd spotted stranger lost in the throes of who knows what pitiful thoughts. He sucked up his fill of the water before turning his gaze upon the solemn stallion. Cold icy water droplets dribbled from his chin onto his chest, dribbled upon the muddied bank of the water’s edge, and perhaps too, flung unnecessarily upon the silent stranger. “Ripple for your thoughts?” he leered as his body blocked the direct rays of sunlight whilst his shadow loomed over the stallion’s body like the dark cloud he himself was so often caught beneath.

[Ruan]

Ruan

It was more than sadness for people long gone that had forced him from home to this place of sunlight and strangers. Betrayal. Hurt, anger. Beneath his calm exterior was a wolf becoming rabid with pain. Howling and raging as he lay still and staring, blinding his ice-blue eyes on the reflected sun at his feet. So consumed with the storm within his mind, he almost didn't even notice the man approach. He came to stand near him -too near- but Ruan ignored him. His only acknowledgement was the backward tug of his ears.

The stranger drank, then straightened. Water slipped down his chin and chest, pattering the ground. The instant a drop hit Ruan, he chilled the air between them, all other spray dropping to the dirt like little ice pellets. Meanwhile, he just stared at the water, his eyes not really seeing what was before him.

How could she have done this to him?

The voice broke through the dark cyclone of pain, and it became clear he was not leaving. Ruan sighed, but did not move to stand, content to remain in the shadow cast over him like his own personal canopy of trees. This state of numb and silent anguish was probably best to remain in. It hurt less than the fury and betrayal roiling like acid in his heart.

So his quiet sigh was the only response to the man.
And he'd just have to take it or leave it.