"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
It has been a journey. From finding the lone foal to the proposal brought by the pied mare. He is confident in his decision and since the lands are a subkingdom of his loyalties he doesn't think there to be an issue. He slows his pace to match the child following at his side. An ever observant blue eye upon the young colt as the other scans for danger. His ears survey the area as well, he could hear danger before he'd ever see it.
They traverse steadily across the lands. Autumn hues nearing upon the skyline with each step. "Ye will love Nerine, Rhysand. There 'tis a ivory sanded beach just before thy ocean. Ye can race across them with thy breeze in ye's mane," his eyes wander in a dream like state to his homeland. A smile pulls across his lips. But they were not headed there, not yet.
An incline lie ahead. He looks to the colt before moving onward. His large muscular frame climbs it easily but as he looks back the blotched colt struggles a bit. He slows and waits for the child to catch up. Craning his large profile he lowers his muzzle, bringing it behind Rhysands rear. An encouraging nudge given as he helps the colt reach the top.
Perched upon the hill they look out across the hues of red and gold foilage. They have made it. He flashes the child a brilliant smile before announcing their arrival. "This 'tis Sylva. Our home for now, Rhysand. What do ye think?" His tone gentle for such a large stallion. He has never visited the lands and looks forward to sharing the new experience with his son.
The boy couldn't help but bound excitedly after his father, heels kicking at the dirt as he trotted by the gray's side. With determined strides he walks the incline, allowing his father's touch to give him strength.
He allows his green eyes to wander over the land stretched out before them, the red hue that blanketed the land exciting him.
This life was still new to him, a fascination rooted deep in his bones at the beauty of it all.
"I think I will race yah there Papa."
The boy smiles, eyes still focused on the expanse. With a gentle nudge to the man's side the boy was off. He knew his father could catch up to him if he wished, but he was excited for the chase.
Together they take in the sights before them. A dazzling array as the rising sun kisses the world good morning. Overlooking the sea of autumn he was in no hurry. The child jigged excitedly before replying with his own proposal, a race. A gentle chuckle emitted from the stallion as his head bobbed in agreement.
The colt raced forwards, lanky legs flailing. The giant grey stallion reared back in response. Rising upon his hunches slightly before launching forwards. He offered the child a decent head start before breaking into a three beat pace. It didn't take long to close the distance but he didn't rush ahead. Allowing Rhysand to lead the way. Bringing his muzzle lower to nudge him on.
The trees thickened so the stallion reduced speeds. Manuvering such a heavy frame through the forest was difficult enough without speed. An occasional fallen log blocked their path. He gathered himself over them with ease but he was unsure how Rhysand would fare...
The children trail behind her on spindle legs, black and white and gawky. Djinni’s pace is slowed for their sake as well as her own. Though she is no longer weighted down by twins, the labor of birth was not terribly long past.
She had been heading toward the border even before she’d heard the sound of a familiar voice. As it echoes across the forest, she nudges the children encouragingly. A bit quicker now, the trio move through the forest, the tobiano mother and her tobiano foals. Djinni’s dark eyes scan the woods ahead of them, and when she sees a blur of movement, she calls out.
It’s Orion and Rhysand, the pair of them racing through the woods together. They are heading directly toward her and the children, so she stops. Starlin steps up closer to her, but the nearly all-white filly looks around her mother’s side with curious eyes rather than remaining hidden. When Orion and Rhysand emerge from the woods, Djinni greets them with a bright smile.
“You made good time,” she tells them, knowing the the journey from the Field – while straightforward – was no easy trek. “Welcome to Sylva.” Her green eyes are light and honest, though she soon focuses her attention on Rhysand.
Lowering her head to meet his gaze, she says: “These are my children, Lochwood and Starlin.” She gestures to them as she says their names, and pauses to glance from one twin to the other. “This is Rhysand. You will treat him no differently than you treat each other. Understood?” The children nod agreeably, and Djinni looks back to Rhysand. “What do you think?” she asks him as she looks to the forest around them. “It’s beautiful even compared to the beaches of Nerine, I think.”
Gleeful shouts erupted from the painted boy, lanky legs carrying him through the trees. Something deep in his bones shouted at him, a familiar scent wafting through the air.
Thats when he saw her, just as he had seen her all those hours before. Long legs skidded to a halt, soft green eyes peering up at the mare's own. She tells him of her children, who were not much younger than he.
Suddenly the boy grew shy, ears flicking timidly as he looked at them. He whispered a soft 'hello' to them, watching quietly from his spot. After a moment he turned back to his father, eyes questioning and shy.
He knew Djinni's children were just like him, young and new to the world. He knew some day they would be close, the best of friends he hoped. But now he gave them space, allowed them to adjust to life as Dijinni and Orian had done for him.
She speaks to him once more, and the boy turns to her smiling widely at the question.
"It's beautiful."
His words are laced with his love of the new place, eyes filled to the brim with apprecitation of the lands. For now this was his home, and he loved each and every inch of it.
My mother is beside me, and the wordless reassurance that provides is enough encouragement to send me forward. The ground beneath my hooves is thick with centuries of fallen leaves, a cushiony surface that is most excellent for playing on. Falls never hurt too badly (as I know first hand).
Having only learned to walk a few hours ago, I think I'm doing rather well. Falling more than Lochwood, true, but I'm always quick to get back up again. So when I closer to the newcomers, it is with a look of careful deliberation that sits strangely on my young face. When I don't immediately fall on my face, the gravity of my expression lightens, and I give Rhysand a happy smile.
"Hello!" I say as I stretch out my white muzzle toward him. "Wanna go jump off rocks?"
This seems like a perfectly acceptable past time to me. Mother, Lochwood and I had passed several large boulders on our trip through the woods. Some of them had looked a little too high to leap from safely, but a few had been just the right height.
The grey washed stallion is pleased venturing with his son. As they cross the lands quickly in a mock race the child follows easily. Soon they are found by the resident leader and with her is the reasons for her quick departure in the field. He smiles kindly as they join the pair. She is quick with introductions. His own voice gentled as he lowers his crown, "Hello there." She comments on the scenery around them and he nods in agreement, "Tis quite beautiful."
Returning to his usual lumbered stance as one of the foals speak up. His sky blue gaze shifts to the blotched colt beside him. Lowering his muzzle he gives him an encouraging nuzzle, "Go play. Have fun but be safe, Rhysand." His attention shifts to the mare allowing her to voice her objection or acceptance of the chosen activity.
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