Horses, here, in Avon. To all, it was a sign of the fae's pleasure to grant the kingdom the status of home, but to Kaphiri it ran much deeper. Not just a strong, thriving mare, but foals. Colts, two of them. This was a gift, and the priest thanked all the deities he could think of for this blessing, none moreso than Saeiqa. If there ever were a sign he was doing the right thing and that he walked the right path, it was this gift offered to the storm-chaser, as if the great Thunderbolt himself knew and appreciated that his life had changed. He may not follow the storm to new horizons, might've found new obligations and a change in lifestyle... but Kaphiri never forgot who he was, who he would always be.

The ruby man came across them one glorious morning, and he stopped at a distance, hanging his head in reverence and beaming from ear to ear. He didn't dare approach without an invitation, but his wagging tail and bright eyes spoke of inherent friendliness.