Ashamin

It had either been the exact wrong or exact right moment for Ashamin to have turned his head; the outcome would have to be debated. But either way, a beast crashed into the barriers and shattered them, sending ice shards Ashamin's way and sliding the tips of icicles across the floor, back to where they melted beside the fire.

For a moment, Ashamin did not look. He had a fear he could not quantify that he did not want to face; his back stung from the impact of the shards. Though the haruspex was thankful that he had not been blinded by that chaotic entrance, he would have liked the warning that sight afforded him. Now he had nothing but a heavy breathing that overtook the soft whistling of the wind outdoors.

He felt, even from behind, as if he was being towered over. The red of the flame shone on Ashamin's gold scars, marking the walls with their light lines and drawing his gaze to flicker there. Though he dared not move his head, from the corner of his eye he could see a tall shadow, and for that, he swallowed the cold air on his tongue.

But Lochan.

The cerndyr's white eyes shut and Ashamin watched as the third, always open, crinkled with concentration. Softly then came the image, slipping into Ashamin's consciousness as if a note under a door. With tenderness, the bonded buck unfolded the image, and revealed what his companion saw.

The flash of a vision was like a child's drawing, its lines shaky with nervousness and its rendering uncertain. But the image was, in its own way, clear. Patches of red, black, and green were scattered about and beneath the lines, but poking outside them in several places. Behind Ashamin stood a monster of a unicorn, that much was true, but nothing that he couldn't face. Nothing that, in fighting Torleik the Bloodskald, he hadn't faced before.

Ashamin turned, his long tail whipping at his back, and prepared a wise and subtle smile. The beast was, in some ways, exactly as Lochan had portrayed him. Maybe slightly less, well... squiggly. Ashamin met the white eyes, caught a glimpse of the emerald, and took in the sight of the muscled and scarred form. He had expected some creature much taller, but, well, this stallion seemed to be exactly his height without those horns of his. Pushing past all trepidation, Ashamin extended his dark cheek as always, reaching to try and touch it to the other stallion's in greeting. Perhaps Ashamin was becoming somewhat introverted in this long winter, or rather returning to that state, but he wouldn't let it get to him. "Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance, don't you?"

His tone was jovial, his air shaking with cold and a faint smattering of nervousness. But his black eyes were lit from the outside dim of the borealis, and in those rainbow patterns were reflections of kindness. Lochan stood by the fire but did not draw closer--Ashamin realized, suddenly and with wonder, that he could feel the young creature's movement as if it were his own.

"Come in, all are welcome to the home of the Haruspex," Ashamin said, turning to confirm the sight of Lochan on all fours and beckoning the newcomer with a coil-tipped tail. "Do you come seeking shelter or wisdom?" The second question was tossed behind his back, with his head tilted up and his four white deer's hooves carrying him back towards warmth. For whatever reason, he felt he recognized this stallion and his boldness. He doubted the other one was new, doubted the other needed introduction to this cave, and was entirely and completely wrong.

But, he would learn that in time, and introductions would come. For now, he stood by the fire and waited for his new company to join.


One night you drew for me a picture, red black and green, and when I turned to see who stood there it was difficult to think anything but this:

Where did you get the red from, little one?
Was it just a random pick?
A slipping, broken crayon?


[[@[Mortuus Nox], any]]