12/13/2024, 9:39 PM
Rosenwyn had shaped into a wily colt under the care of Epona, and he was thankful to her for picking him up that smoky day. He still wasn't entirely sure what had happened; they had established that she wasn't his dam, but neither of them seemed to know where she was, either. The boy had memories, but even the ones of himself didn't match up correctly -- the glimpses he got of himself looked different, the world around them wasn't the same one, and the only similarity was the smoke he couldn't scrub from his mind. Couldn't seem to wash it from his coat, either. It always seemed to permeate from him, no matter how well he bathed or what he rolled in, it clung to his very bones. Rosenwyn hated it, detested the constant reminder of what once had been.
He missed his Mother, her sweet, soothing presence. He had to be with her; he'd not forgotten the way she felt frazzled and worn around the edges, his need to make her smile, protect her. Epona had been a good companion all this time, and he would consider her his best of friends... but he had to find his Mother. It was with a heavy heart he departed from her wisdom, but he felt steady on his own long, thin legs now. She'd taught him how to survive out here, and he didn't need her watchful eye over him.
He was still a foal, still young, still inexperienced, but he could find food for himself, and he could evade predators. That was as simple as life had become, and frankly, it never had been more than an eat-and-avoid-danger sort of existence for one as young as he.
Dusk gathered overhead, birds swooping into the few trees across the plains to nest for the night, bats beginning their to and fro as clouds of gnats littered the sky. Rosenwyn trotted leisurely across the open moors, in no hurry and with no destination, but both enjoying and sulking upon his solitude. He reveled in the freedom he'd so craved all his young life, surely, but either because of his prolonged absence from his Mother or the now thousands-years-old instinct telling him to find some mares and band up, it just.... wasn't the same as he had always imagined it would be.
He missed Hira, thought surely, she was out there somewhere?
The ghostly beast picked up into a canter, tail cresting and head tossing in joy. Yes -- she must be out there! He just had to find her.
He missed his Mother, her sweet, soothing presence. He had to be with her; he'd not forgotten the way she felt frazzled and worn around the edges, his need to make her smile, protect her. Epona had been a good companion all this time, and he would consider her his best of friends... but he had to find his Mother. It was with a heavy heart he departed from her wisdom, but he felt steady on his own long, thin legs now. She'd taught him how to survive out here, and he didn't need her watchful eye over him.
He was still a foal, still young, still inexperienced, but he could find food for himself, and he could evade predators. That was as simple as life had become, and frankly, it never had been more than an eat-and-avoid-danger sort of existence for one as young as he.
Dusk gathered overhead, birds swooping into the few trees across the plains to nest for the night, bats beginning their to and fro as clouds of gnats littered the sky. Rosenwyn trotted leisurely across the open moors, in no hurry and with no destination, but both enjoying and sulking upon his solitude. He reveled in the freedom he'd so craved all his young life, surely, but either because of his prolonged absence from his Mother or the now thousands-years-old instinct telling him to find some mares and band up, it just.... wasn't the same as he had always imagined it would be.
He missed Hira, thought surely, she was out there somewhere?
The ghostly beast picked up into a canter, tail cresting and head tossing in joy. Yes -- she must be out there! He just had to find her.