The road may be long, but it always unwinds // Any

[Raul]

His world had become something utterly unfamiliar in the days recently passed. He was choking on the pain of the past and didn't know how to process the reality he was now living in. 

There was joy, of course. But it was mingled with a sense of being lied to. Of being deceived. His mind was spinning in circles and it was a relief to find himself alone when the sun rose that day. Time was needed to filter his now volatile emotions. Before further regret found him. 

The sunburst stallion mused at the edge of a pool being fed by the waterfall thundering down the side of the volcano. This was a beautiful piece of the world, there was no doubt of that. It was as green as Eden, and lush with any number of good things to eat. The heat from the active volcano permeated the air no matter the season, and he found the taught muscles of his shoulders loosening despite himself. 

It was a healing place. With hope, he wondered if the wounds of the past were still healable, or if the scars ran too deep after all these years of neglect. The heavy weight of his head dropped to the water, a gust of air ruffling the surface as he looked upon the face reflecting back at him. Tan hair, vibrant, fiery mane that fell in his eyes at the worst times. The bloody red that seemed to dip-dye his muzzle and banded his throat. Eyes that carried too much weariness. He was not a bad looking stallion, but worry and regret had aged him prematurely. 

His lips met the water's cool surface, breaking up the image into a thousand distorted pieces. He didn't know what the future had in store for himself, for his family. Could not begin to guess. If the day he was living in right now ended well, he'd consider it a victory.

[Salomea]

I escaped; at least, for now. I can still feel him on the edges, curled like a slit-eyed viper just beyond the edge of darkness, his forked tongue brushing my consciousness now and again, just to remind me not to forget …. If I just stay in the light, though. Just stay in the light. I wake with a gasp, the gray of my eyes pale and troubled. I struggle to control my breathing, my skin damp and clammy, the humid air doing little to warm me. My child, the one I have been carrying for what seems like an eternity, pitches and rolls. A deep breath and roll up on my shoulder and then my chest, pausing again to catch my breath. I cannot shake the pit of uneasiness in my stomach. The shrouds of sleep cloy my senses and I look around dumbly, trying to jive this sickening feeling with the reality of my surroundings. I had stayed in Tephra only because I had nowhere else to go, not after the dark god and this mongrel of a child. The thing twists and kicks again, drawing a loud grunt from my mouth and pushing me to my feet.    Shaking bits of dirt and the last vestiges of sleep from my swollen frame, I slip (as much as a heavily pregnant mare can slip) from the relative safety of my copse. Thirst scratches at my throat, hunger gnawing at my belly. Either that or the child has found my stomach a suitable chew toy. I have a sneaking suspicion it is tainted with my grandfather’s magic; I can feel it when it shifts. As a fetus, its skills are rudimentary but, I suspect, effective enough to continuously prolong gestation.  There was a time that I tried to disguise my presence, making enough slight deviations that anyone looking would have a hard time finding me. Now, now I think I would rather die than carry this child much longer. Wallowing in self-pity as I am, I do not notice the silver buckskin at first. When I do finally notice, the proximity of the water wins out over my typical dance to avoid strangers. Eyeing the bright shock of his mane and forelock, I say nothing as I waddle a bit downstream of him and drink my fill. Water dripping from my chin, weary grey eyes meet weary silver and blue. "You look like you have a lot on your mind," I offer, desperate to escape my fate, even if it is for a few moments of mundane conversation.

[Raul]

His musing had been interrupted, and for that he was grateful. The one to do it was a stranger, softened around the edges by the weight of pregnancy. Water dripped from the damp-darkened carmine of his lips when the heaviness of his head rose at last to see her. Had Warlight looked so careworn when their son had grown inside her? He wished he knew. 

"So do you." He stated after a moment, damaged voice rasping into the humid air. The stern cast of his features remained as he looked closer at the darkly cloaked mare. He did not know the ones who occupied this kingdom, had come here because it was where the bone-crowned woman had led him. New faces were commonplace, yet he had not spared much time to familiarize himself with them. It was a rookie mistake, not learning who belonged and who didn't. 

A grimace of annoyance flickered across his face at the realization. He knew better. Too long he'd let himself forget anything beyond his own survival, his son's survival. Now he walked in kingdom land again, and there was so much else at stake. So he houghed a hoarse breath and nodded to her stiffly. "Name's Raul. Who're you?" He had never been a stallion of many words, even before the events of the Plague days. 

He had not been a coward either. This was a little mare, and if she belonged here, she was due protection. She looked like she could use it, he thought briefly, barely making eye contact. A lifetime of looking over his shoulder had taught him the signs of the hunted. She had the air of it, even if she didn't think it showed.  

@[Salomea]