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11-12-2013, 01:03 PM
"Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there."
Heat drove him north, onward and upward, and instinct told him to skirt the herdlands – a cautiousness that was more fortuitous than he could have imagined. If he'd known what was happening to Kostya in the very moments he ranged northward, he would have been dead in the Basin before nightfall.
As it was, dusk saw him crossing into the steppes, though no snow blanketed it – not in high summer. Instead, tundra grasses grew lush, as if to make the most of their brief season of life. The red stallion paused as he walked, grazing and drowsing, in no particular hurry. The air felt cool and clean, a welcome reprieve from the areas he had been so far; his continued time wandering had marked his body with a variety of nicks, his chesnut mane and tail a matted mess. If he ever did find the twins, Kostya would have his work cut out for him.
There was no aurora tonight – cloud cover was thick, even here, and heat lightning flickered to the south, providing its own show. Whoever was south of the neck tonight looked to be having a time of it; the flashes reminded him of his time in Ferraden, jungle-damp with constant rain and heat. He'd much rather be here.
Surpringly few seemed to share his feelings, though – given the dog-hot summer, Gabriel would have figured on seeing many more inhabitants pushing north – but perhaps he was too ignorant the fear the Basin's proximity put into outsiders. Either way, he found himself alone; until.
Until there was a figure, difficult to pick out in the blanketed darkness, even the lightning just distant enough not to provide light. But the red stallion didn't depend on sight alone, and he drew nearer, cautioun evident in his steps; for all he knew, this was some feral god who was causing the storm beyond the hills.
Caution, but not fear – he'd met enough gods in his time to know they could do no worse than kill you, and he'd met enough ghosts in his time to know death meant nothing at all.
“And here I thought I'd be alone,” he said, drawing beside her, but there is no real note of bitterness in his voice – just a weariness, and a sort of slow curiosity.
@[Colt]
As it was, dusk saw him crossing into the steppes, though no snow blanketed it – not in high summer. Instead, tundra grasses grew lush, as if to make the most of their brief season of life. The red stallion paused as he walked, grazing and drowsing, in no particular hurry. The air felt cool and clean, a welcome reprieve from the areas he had been so far; his continued time wandering had marked his body with a variety of nicks, his chesnut mane and tail a matted mess. If he ever did find the twins, Kostya would have his work cut out for him.
There was no aurora tonight – cloud cover was thick, even here, and heat lightning flickered to the south, providing its own show. Whoever was south of the neck tonight looked to be having a time of it; the flashes reminded him of his time in Ferraden, jungle-damp with constant rain and heat. He'd much rather be here.
Surpringly few seemed to share his feelings, though – given the dog-hot summer, Gabriel would have figured on seeing many more inhabitants pushing north – but perhaps he was too ignorant the fear the Basin's proximity put into outsiders. Either way, he found himself alone; until.
Until there was a figure, difficult to pick out in the blanketed darkness, even the lightning just distant enough not to provide light. But the red stallion didn't depend on sight alone, and he drew nearer, cautioun evident in his steps; for all he knew, this was some feral god who was causing the storm beyond the hills.
Caution, but not fear – he'd met enough gods in his time to know they could do no worse than kill you, and he'd met enough ghosts in his time to know death meant nothing at all.
“And here I thought I'd be alone,” he said, drawing beside her, but there is no real note of bitterness in his voice – just a weariness, and a sort of slow curiosity.
@[Colt]
gabriel
