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02-26-2017, 08:49 AM
Tomorrow is a hope. Never a promise.
The dark prince’s steps were measured as his dark hooves stabbed into the earth. He had left Kiada and Kaos far behind, seeking the mists of the Edge that had somehow become home in the short time he had returned to live here. His body was wreathed in fog—though his companion’s was not. Her striped, athletic body and supremely sensitive nose had scented death, and so she with those who gathered around the now-filling hole that contained the passed general and her bonded.
Bright blue eyes stared at the dirt that covered the perfectly edible bodies, and her instictive, insatiable hunger drove her to start calculating when she could unearth such a prize meal. These thoughts drew the attentions of her bonded, and the dark prince slowly meandered into edges of those gathered.
Kianzo was not necessarily a stranger to death. He hunted with and for Keusi—Hasovir had taught him well with the sea lions when he was a young colt. But this death… it wasn’t a nameless prey animal; nor some distantly removed historical death that adults mentioned sadly in passing reminiscing. No, this was a body, not yet cold or stiff, of a mare he had seen living, breathing, laughing.
The colt’s sharp blue gaze left the grave, probing the stout grey filly’s dirty, anguished face; his irreligious gaze studied the bull horned colt’s broken features, and then he finally landed on his father’s grief-stricken silhouette—
And something shifted in him.
Perhaps it was the loneliness from his current alienation with Kiada. Or that he had never seen his sire so…broken. Despite the colt’s petulant dislike of the Elephant King, he was still his father, and to see his steadfast (safe) navy eyes overbright; to hear his usually strong, deep voice hoarse with sorrow…
The colt soundlessly ordered Keusi to his side, dark mind firmly suppressing any thought she may have of defiling the late General’s body. His proud, masked face dipped slightly in respect of a woman he did not know—but his father did, and that (for the first time) was enough for the colt in that moment— and he quietly murmured, “Pumzika.”
Bright blue eyes stared at the dirt that covered the perfectly edible bodies, and her instictive, insatiable hunger drove her to start calculating when she could unearth such a prize meal. These thoughts drew the attentions of her bonded, and the dark prince slowly meandered into edges of those gathered.
Kianzo was not necessarily a stranger to death. He hunted with and for Keusi—Hasovir had taught him well with the sea lions when he was a young colt. But this death… it wasn’t a nameless prey animal; nor some distantly removed historical death that adults mentioned sadly in passing reminiscing. No, this was a body, not yet cold or stiff, of a mare he had seen living, breathing, laughing.
The colt’s sharp blue gaze left the grave, probing the stout grey filly’s dirty, anguished face; his irreligious gaze studied the bull horned colt’s broken features, and then he finally landed on his father’s grief-stricken silhouette—
And something shifted in him.
Perhaps it was the loneliness from his current alienation with Kiada. Or that he had never seen his sire so…broken. Despite the colt’s petulant dislike of the Elephant King, he was still his father, and to see his steadfast (
The colt soundlessly ordered Keusi to his side, dark mind firmly suppressing any thought she may have of defiling the late General’s body. His proud, masked face dipped slightly in respect of a woman he did not know—but his father did, and that (for the first time) was enough for the colt in that moment— and he quietly murmured, “Pumzika.”
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