"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
boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
What strange times we are living in, the cremello thinks to himself. He nestles within the moss of his bed, lion tail curled tightly around his side. The cave he calls home is truly a home, now; though, he does worry about the months to come. He wonders where the hell he will belong, if he will ever feel any sort of stability. He thinks he is ready to move on, but his quivering heart begs him to hold still.
Litotes cannot hold still. Even the blood in his veins vibrates with adrenaline. Some may call it PTSD, but others call it a constant high. For now, the cremello manages.
There is a certain boy he considers, a sweet face that keeps Lie from his nap. Kelynen grows quickly, but his father still longs to hold him close; so, the Archon swathes himself in shadows and carries himself to Hyaline.
Their little nook is the same as it ever was, perhaps a few new scents here and there. Trees cast long shadows and dapples of sunlight across his pale hide. Litotes peers from behind a trunk, delighted eyes studying his child from afar. Kel is the first of his kids he can truly be there for, a thought that leaves a painful lump in his throat.
“Kel!” the cremello calls as he steps from his cover. “Come here!” The smile on the stallion’s face is brilliant and loving.
and if i fall would you know that to do? and if i'm caught up would you stay?
take a walk through the wreckage —clearing out my head
i hear your eyes roll right down the phone
i'm your walking disaster keep on dragging me
from self-pity —poor me
It is his very first summer and Kelynen does not yet know to value the long luxurious days or the heat, or the clear nights full of stars. He thinks that this is the world that always is. Sometimes it might rain, and the lightning and thunder frightens he and Risk into tucking their heads beneath Kensa's belly, but the sun comes back. It always comes peeking over the mountains and bursting from behind the clouds so that the two youngsters can play. It will always be summer and he will always play with Risk in the little meadow high on the mountain.
The boy will learn though, he is growing tall and the summer’s end is nearing but today he is still just a chasing grasshoppers though the long grass.
He springs after them like a fox does mice, losing brightly winged pests each time he gets too excited and ends up crow hopping and bucking while a myriad of displaced insects swirl up away from his boisterousness. The palomino youth is not usually so wild, in fact he is the most calm and fearful of Kensa’s children, but up here alone he plays unselfconsciously at being a reckless boy.
When his nickname is called across the meadow he freezes, golden eyes wide as he looks towards the sound. Discovering it is his father he stumbles over his long legs to race over to him at once. Just shy of the cremello stallion his unadorned son rears back and then butts his white foreheads against Litotes’ own. His small hooves catch lightly at the stallions shoulder before he drops down to press close under the muscular curve of his sire’s neck. “Dad! You’re here!” It is not hard for the boy to have his father live in the adjoining territory, it is the way he’s always known it, and every visit is exciting. He loves his parents, though Risk is his closest companion and dearest one, there is no replacing a father. He is lucky to have one that would come just to see him and he seems to recognize that… either because he has noted Valek’s envy, or more likely because he deeply wants to be loved.
boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
Guilt wells in the backs of Litotes’ eyes at the sight of his son rushing toward him. I don’t come see him nearly enough. He watches the palomino and white of the colt’s hide shimmer and gleam beneath the sweet Hyaline summer sun. Regret, like guilt, burns him up inside. None of his children get enough of him. There are too many, with too many mothers, with too many needs . . . too many.
The cremello sighs. Now is not the time.
Still, the images of Risk and Valek are almost more vivid than the reality before him. Why does he struggle so to connect with Valek? And why does he feel as if he will never be good enough for sweet Risk? His mind swirls for too long, and it is only when Kel’s forehead collides with his own that he returns to the present.
A wild smile creases his mouth, nearly wiping his selfish concerns from his mind. His son’s hooves clip his shoulders a little harshly, but he does not mind, such excited affection masks any pain. The genuine elation in Kelynen’s eyes makes his chest clench.
Why can’t I be a family man? He pines for who he could be, for who he once was. Even in this sincere suffering, he is selfish.
The Archon swallows his pride and launches into a playful canter around his family’s meadow. He offers Kel a teasing smile
“What do you want to do today, Kel?”
and if i fall would you know that to do? and if i'm caught up would you stay?
take a walk through the wreckage —clearing out my head
i hear your eyes roll right down the phone
i'm your walking disaster keep on dragging me
from self-pity —poor me
Kelynen bounds eagerly after his father, but his gait is more a series of springs than a match for his sire’s canter. He will grow nearly to Litotes height one day, a handsome blending of his two fine parents and, he hopes, as strong and fearless. He admires his father’s snowflakes as he does Kensa’s gold and tries to keep pace so he can brush his little nose against Lie’s silver muzzle. He feels very plain compared to almost all of his family. “Take me somewhere with you, please!” He replies at once, stopping to toss his head bravely though he has never left Hyaline without Risk, and never ever with Kensa. Though perhaps they need not leave Hyaline at all.
The white legged boy is not the adventurer his mother and sister are. Kelynen is soft spoken, reserved and often cautious but the opportunity to spend time with his father makes him eager to spirit away before Kensa or even one of his other siblings can snatch even a fraction of the Archon’s attention. The boy knows he ought to suggest something but he spends most of his time in the meadow and the valley bottom unless Risk is dragging him someplace and so is not able to conjur an idea. White and flaxen tail switching eagerly he opens his mouth to say where he wants to go and then closes it again because he truly does not know.
“I want to see a place you like to go.” Kelynen finally says meekly hoping that idea is enough to make him seem eager to spend time with his sire and appreciate the things he appreciates.
kelynen
how do you always know?
@[litotes] god don't you hate same day replies :x:
boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
There is nothing but love in Kel’s eyes when he stares up at his father. Litotes’ heart melts at the sight, melts to absolute liquid when his son brushes his soft nose against his metallic one. He smiles, neck tucked to study the splashes of palomino upon his back. There is something about this one, this son, that clenches his heart and shrinks his lungs. Perhaps it is a hope he will not fail Kelynen, like he has failed so many of his children. There is a sinking feeling in the back of his mind, though, that doing well with one will not take away the shame he feels for the others.
When the colt asks of a place the cremello likes to go, Lie offers him a kind smile. He has to take a moment to cycle through his memories in Hyaline, trying desperately to pick a place that is not tainted by his resentment. When he does, the kind smile turns into a delighted one, and he nuzzles the soft area between his ears.
“One day I would like to take you to Pangea, to the little cave I call home and the underground rivers. I don’t think your mother would appreciate me stealing you for so long, though, so we will save that for another day,” the stallion almost falters on the last sentence. He is not around enough to know how Kensa truly feels, but there is a certain emptiness in her eyes when she looks away from their son. She holds a secret she does not tell, and the Archon fears the truth of it. He does not pry; instead, he pours what love and attention he can into their babe - perhaps a quiet attempt to forget what reservations his wife may possess.
Litotes starts into a slow trot, golden eyes twinkling as he looks to Kelynen. The steep path of dirt and rocks begins to fade into trampled grass, and the cremello picks up his pace. He laughs and calls, “I’ll race you!” before breaking into a lazy canter. At the gangly boy’s fastest he should be able to keep pace.
When they come upon the little copse of plum trees, the Archon slows even further, to allow his son to draw ahead. From behind, he encourages Kel into the woven thicket. Emotion sparkles in his eyes.
“Your mother and I used to come here and get sick on all the sweet fruit.” His smile is wistful, nearly rueful. “I like to come here to remember.” Remember what, he does not divulge. Kel would not understand.
and if i fall would you know that to do? and if i'm caught up would you stay?
take a walk through the wreckage —clearing out my head
i hear your eyes roll right down the phone
i'm your walking disaster keep on dragging me
from self-pity —poor me
Mother would not mind his being gone with his father but the boy does not challenge the stallion’s statement. He does not know for sure, and it does not seem like a good idea to assume what his mother might think about his going missing. “Can Risk come when we do that? She would like it.” He says instead, pale gold eyes a little anxious because he loves his sister and knows their mother will behave as Litotes expects if both of them go...and then they will not have to see that she has not even noticed his absence.
The palomino trots along beside his father, nimble like his mother and used to traveling this worn path. He jumps the last little grade and throws himself into the race his sire invites him to. His long legs carry him quickly, even if his gait is unrefined in youth. He keeps pace with Lie and laughs when he gets to pull ahead and charge toward the stand of heavy plum trees and the tangle of raspberry bushes that guard some of the trunks. He has not been here before. He has not won any races.
“Remember getting sick?!”The boy says with incredulous disbelief, creeping between the trunks and green brambles into the shaded place. Heavy branches drag over his high rump and thorns grab the feathers at his fetlocks. He does not hesitate, his father is at his back. Sniffing along the ground, all the plums he finds are melting away and little creatures crawl over them. Tiny young plum trees grow in the shade, mere sticks with leaves and he chews at the top of one contemplating how he is going to secure himself fresher fruit and also take some home to his sister. “Why do you live in Pangea instead of in the meadow with us?” He asks, plucking leaves from the stick and spitting them onto the ground.
boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
There is no feeling more fulfilling than knowing he is pouring all of the love he can into his children. In this moment, he knows he is giving all that he can to Kelynen, and that is just enough to keep his doubts away. Being the melancholy and selfish creature he is, he might continue to dwell on all of the kids he has failed, but the delight in his son’s eyes drags him away. Lie smiles, choking on the miniscule bit of peace their day together will offer him.
“Of course I don’t like to remember getting sick, idiot!” he gasps, bumping the palomino’s shoulder with his forehead. “But the memories are sweet. I am sure you have plenty of weird things you like to remember.” The cremello’s smile does not waver as he considers all of the wondrous memories Kel must possess. With his age now riding a decade, any sweet childhood freedom is nearly erased from his brain.
Initially, the Archon is shocked at the question thrown at him. He stops all movement, placing a pensive stare upon his son. Eventually his gaze softens, and he takes his time formulating a response. “I, well,” he speaks slowly. “I have to lead the other kingdom, but I do consider the meadow my real home.” The swallow that follows is loud. Of course he considers their nest his real home, but is he there enough to consider it home? Lie would like to think so, though he is beginning to doubt he can juggle family and kingdom-life as gracefully as once before. “And you and Risk both can come visit me. I’ll take you to the underground rivers and to all of the caves. The sunrise and sunset are beautiful, too. Maybe you can stay there for more than a few hours, too.”
and if i fall would you know that to do? and if i'm caught up would you stay?
take a walk through the wreckage —clearing out my head
i hear your eyes roll right down the phone
i'm your walking disaster keep on dragging me
from self-pity —poor me
A small twinge of concern alters the palomino boy’s expression, anxious that he has in fact been stupid. He is still very young and given to misunderstanding the things adults say and he really would like to be considered clever. Still he is reassured by the butting of his father’s broad forehead against his shoulder and so bobs his head, once, briefly to confirm he does in fact have weird things he likes to remember even though he can’t think of a single one at the moment.
So he proceeds with the vandalism of the little tree until his next question silences his father who stares at him in a way that Kelynen finds rather unreadable. He moves away a little on the pretense of inspecting a heavy branch within his reach. “I know.” He says, trying to make himself up to the need to feel smart and worthy of his sire’s attention. Even though he didn’t know. Even though he didn’t understand himself to be the son of a King.
Feeling a little more secure with the branch between them (to better hide his brief flare of insecurity). There is the benefit of discovering a dusky purple plum which he immediately tugs free. Pride makes him forget his anxiety and he slides under the branch to show Litotes his prize. A switch of his flaxen-white tail and he sets the plum gingerly down on the pile of leaves he’d made earlier. “I would like to come and stay for days!” Then, after regarding his single plum a moment his gold eyes flick back to Litotes, narrowed slightly. “Do you really live inside a cave? My mother said she thinks that’s where you sleep but that she hasn’t been there.” Which seemed odd, but his mother could be counted on to be odd.
08-09-2019, 07:24 PM (This post was last modified: 08-09-2019, 07:27 PM by litotes.)
boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
If Litotes knew that he potentially hurt his son, he would backtrack so quickly he might stumble and break his legs. Anxiety crosses Kelynen’s face and Lie is fortunate enough (or unfortunate enough) to not notice the hesitant spark in his eye; instead, his gaze is locked onto a particularly juicy plum, wondering if he can reach enough to split it with Kel.
The purple plum that rests on the leaves between is shiny and distracting. An approving smile drifts lazily across Lie’s face, and he finds Kel’s gaze with a quiet sort of awe. Most of his children do not love him with this kind of abandon - even Brunhilde, whom he holds so dearly to his heart, has her reservations when she parts with a love you, dad. There is pride there, blooming honestly in his chest: he is proud a son of his can love like he does, even if it is just for his father. Lie never knew a freedom like that, even if it is a cautious one.
“Yes, I do live in a cave! It’s cozy, I promise. I sleep on soft moss - it’s the perfect cushion,” he responds then grabs the plum and splits with a single snap of his jaw. “Perfectly ripe. Good choice.” He nudges the half that fell to the ground in his son’s direction and waits for him to give it a try. “Let’s go for a walk down to a lake and plan that trip to Pangea.”
and if i fall would you know that to do? and if i'm caught up would you stay?
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