Archibald watched his son move away from their home, his golden eyes keen to watch their movements. The Dauntless intercepted Abraham in passing, and now had the colt in tow, but Reginald he was waiting to see the decisions of the metal colored foal. The dark knight and his youngest son did not stalk the older brother, for if the foal wanted to he could have found them following. Instead, he had seemed too interested in his path. Archibald, as well as Abraham, found amazement in where the colt took them. Abraham had left his father to further explore other parts of the cave, with Loretta for safety, and Archibald continued to his own path after his other son.
The Dauntless was mesmerized by this place--it was new to him, and the warlord had been in this land for many years now. The molten eyes of the once general scanned over the wall of the new cave, unaware of what the markings meant. Archibald stopped carefully, leaning his nose forward to touch the wall of the cave. Snorting lightly, Archibald looked back to where his son was standing, some bounds away, before the warrior was aware of the other presence. Archibald turned to face the silver bay just as he spoke, drawing an answer from his son. The great stallion remained quiet, his mammoth frame dominating the air of the room. He seemed to fill the space, his mere presence a force.
The father turned a golden glance to his son, waiting for the answer as well. He did not beckon for one, however, nor did he attempt in any fashion to sway his child's tongue. Reginald would make his own decisions. Abraham would make his own decisions. The mountain would not control his blood like his own mother had--no--he would not drive them away like he did his brothers, his own twin. He would simply teach them to be strong, to be great, to strike their own path and to keep their oaths. He knew his sons would be impressive on Helovia, if not Loorien, and he was confident in what he could show them, as well.
"speak"
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