.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-28-2015, 11:48 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-29-2015, 12:14 AM by Caneo.
Edit Reason: fixed typo
)
Morning presses narrow fingers into the endless darkness of a hopeful sky. Day hinges on the verge of night, and under the changing of the guard up in the heavens, Caneo trails behind his newfound (refound?) friend. A journey lays behind them, longer still for him, but little in his movement betrays weariness. More than anything, this, traveling, is like Caneo's home. His heart beats a steady complement to the rhythm of their hooves. His ears twitch to catch the noise of Essetia's breath and measure the tempo of her gait. He recalls something like this spent trailing behind someone else, though the road then led northward and too many things warred in Caneo's head for him to feel at peace. He is peaceful now. Grown, sharp and thin and bright, he is old enough now to appreciate the practical comfort of loyalty. This he vows to himself; and he gazes at the mare leading the way in silent reaffirmation. The place she touched him back in the Threshold still smolders with faint warmth; he had received the touch with the barest flinch then, better at acting than being acted upon. It was still kind, and it affirmed something Caneo suspected all along: how like he is this mare. She is not a bright star to wish on, or a fire to yearn for. She is simply here, understanding, asking of him nothing he cannot give. He remembers their recent conversation and their more distant one with a glow comparable to joy nestled deep in his breast. It keeps him warm as they walk, though his thoughts also wander ahead, to the promise of heat and sun and, doubtless, many strangers. Who will greet them, now? He has not spoken to royalty in a long time. Maybe a faint prickle of nervousness sprouts in his gut, but Caneo is certain now a lord is just a fancy name for someone just as flesh and blood as himself. So long as they stumble upon no true gods... That he refuses to think about. He will not have morning spoiled by religion and ill memory. Anyway, Essetia had said it: "You won't be disappointed." So, Caneo, worry not. Light crawls in pale swaths across the ocean when at last they breach the mainland's edge: a sudden thing. The distant roaring half ignored until now suddenly makes sense, and Caneo remembers again the sensation of seeing all that water for the first time, the realization of his own small insignificance. He thinks of Roland again, and the thought drives him a little nearer to the mare, as if he fears to lose her. As he looks on, confusion replaces curiosity, however. There is cliff, and sea, and land beyond, and... nothing else. One ear cocked back, the other forward, Caneo turns his gaze upon Essetia again. A question lingers in the blue of his eyes. What now? But he does not speak. He has spoken a lot already; now he waits, patient as always, preparing himself for whatever may come.  |
ooc | @Essetia , herd leaders? transitioning here from their Threshold thread with Linds' permission
* violence & magic use always permitted *
Do not tag Caneo unless you are starting a new thread you would like me to see! Thank you!
