Hearth

The laughter that come from the dark one is boisterous, a loud sound that nearly catches me off guard as it fills the air, echoing even with enthusiasm in the outlandish structure that defined this little area. I was bemused enough, actually, that I raised my maw from the cool waters to hover above the stream and cock my head slightly in the red-flanked ones direction. Why was this so... surprising to me? I realize then, dully, that this had been the first time since I'd begun my travels that I had heard someone laugh. Oh, how it beckoned to my memories, dared heartache to rise with a vengeance at those recollections. But I rise not to the bait of tears, feel not the bittersweetness that would unfurl within my chest. I remain stoic in that regard, a cold container to the heat of emotion. Not because I was holding back but simply because I've long accepted what was was no more and fear not new beginnings. The sun never rises on the same day after all, just as I am not the same as I was then and never would be again. Time only moves forward. So do I, for I am Hearth, traveler of the Wide World.

A crooked smile quirks at the corners of my maw and serves as my match for the dark-one's laughter as I turn 'round, finished with my supping. "My wings are strange, says the Fox Mother." I say in my cool manner, a hint of lighthearted jest snaking through as I eyed the stallion and the red fox resting as his feet. It is not often I rise to humor but this stranger rouses in me into a certain playfulness and is my observation not true? I decide then to call the roan one Deerherder for his companion, since I do not know his own name yet as well. This is a side of me I don't often relish in for lack of opportunity and preference, but I am in good company now and say, why not? For once, I'll speak.

Besides, the unusual choice of companions intrigued me. Cautious might be a better word, yet my curiosity often over rules it in the inwardly struggle. The fact that both of the stallions have such odd species traveling alongside them was not a coincidence. I may be ignorant of the rules and laws of this land but I was no fool either. But that could be answered later at leisure. For now I listen.

I cast my mellow gaze upon the mammoth stone structure again, now gifted with the name of it as the Fox Mother answers the newcomer’s question. Rotunda. It is a foreign word yet I find it to my tastes with the way it invokes a sort of presence, an enigma. The same could be said of this entire land as well, this Helovia as they call it. My attention is drawn again shortly back to the Fox Mother as I hear his voice start again, finally granted with both his true name and met with a familiar one. Dragons Throat. So he came from the same herd that Ampere did? All I knew of the place was that it was a desert and that Ampere had wanted me to become a part of it back when we met in the woods of the Threshold, wanted me to become family. I had declined, far from the mood then to consider after my long flight, but even now I would make the same choice if asked. I belong where I am - under the sky.

It came to my attention, dimly, that my name had been asked for." Hearth." I say, curtly bowing my head to both stallions in greeting, my ears then zoning in on a word and applying it to the objects worn by the Deerherder. Bells, hmm. I suppose that works.




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"Speech."

For flame, for heart