Set
Not one to sit idle, he had left Salomea and Dretch in the Cove; though, he very much doubts that the little scamp will stay put for long. The ink-blotted child, with her evolving self-modifications, is just as restless as he. He has not been back to Pangea for some time now. As he crosses the border between the northern inlet and the sandstone kingdom, Ana and her monster’s scents have faded, replaced by others unfamiliar to him. Change is the way of the world, kingdoms and their rulers waxing and waning. He had learned long ago, sometime after the Chamber had disappeared into the void, that effort is wasted if it is not invested in something tangible – and, preferably, under his control. Striped hooves track up underneath him in a languid walk, his head swinging low. Mismatched ears flicking back and forth, bright gaze roaming from one canyon wall to the other, senses alert.
The silence is thick, disrupted only by his dusty hoofsteps and the now and then cry of a particularly cheeky gryffen fledgling. It keeps sending him images of the most tedious persuasion. It floods the channel linking them with close-up pictures of things – nothing but brown water, sparks of sunlight caught on its surface; an old bloodstain – on a rock, on the bank opposite his path. Finally, exasperated, he releases the creature. Rather than return to where he had beckoned it from, the lion-pawed little bundle sinks its needle-claws into Set’s haunches, his just-feathered wings stretched out behind him to keep his balance as the piebald bucks and snorts, careful not to dislodge the kid.
It chirps happily and leaps down to the ground, trotting ahead of Set and disturbing the fresh trail that their line of travel had only just intersected. He pauses a moment, brushing his muzzle along a smudged track, licking away the dirt that sticks to it. Interesting. The little’s tufted tail disappears around a bit of rock, no doubt headed directly for the river, and Set jogs after him with a lopsided grin.
He ruffles the ground ahead of the prancing rogue, humps of earth slowing its beeline for the water’s edge. Another breath and then he turns to peruse the galaxy-marked mare, tracking the bits of water that drip from her chin, roving up over the wickedly pointed horn tip to meet brown eyes streaked through with warm honey. Offering her a grin and a wink in all of his casual arrogance, he snorts and a haggard, prehistoric creature rears its scaly head above the water’s surface. The little gryffen shrieks, first in fear as the yellowed teeth snaps in his direction, then in delight when it uses its scaled tail to whip water over him. Sodden, he wiggles and struts down the bank, following his new playmate. The substantial crocodilian beast slaps its tail again, sullied water again sent up and over Set and company.
The silence is thick, disrupted only by his dusty hoofsteps and the now and then cry of a particularly cheeky gryffen fledgling. It keeps sending him images of the most tedious persuasion. It floods the channel linking them with close-up pictures of things – nothing but brown water, sparks of sunlight caught on its surface; an old bloodstain – on a rock, on the bank opposite his path. Finally, exasperated, he releases the creature. Rather than return to where he had beckoned it from, the lion-pawed little bundle sinks its needle-claws into Set’s haunches, his just-feathered wings stretched out behind him to keep his balance as the piebald bucks and snorts, careful not to dislodge the kid.
It chirps happily and leaps down to the ground, trotting ahead of Set and disturbing the fresh trail that their line of travel had only just intersected. He pauses a moment, brushing his muzzle along a smudged track, licking away the dirt that sticks to it. Interesting. The little’s tufted tail disappears around a bit of rock, no doubt headed directly for the river, and Set jogs after him with a lopsided grin.
He ruffles the ground ahead of the prancing rogue, humps of earth slowing its beeline for the water’s edge. Another breath and then he turns to peruse the galaxy-marked mare, tracking the bits of water that drip from her chin, roving up over the wickedly pointed horn tip to meet brown eyes streaked through with warm honey. Offering her a grin and a wink in all of his casual arrogance, he snorts and a haggard, prehistoric creature rears its scaly head above the water’s surface. The little gryffen shrieks, first in fear as the yellowed teeth snaps in his direction, then in delight when it uses its scaled tail to whip water over him. Sodden, he wiggles and struts down the bank, following his new playmate. The substantial crocodilian beast slaps its tail again, sullied water again sent up and over Set and company.
@[frenzy]