I am only made of flesh and bone.

To some I would appear stoic, and I suppose they would not be entirely wrong in their judgment. There are the calmer tides of my personality which allow me a strong but firm act of nonchalance. In the recesses of my mind, there are few times that I get this prized sanctity, even when my features belie the rabble of my thoughts. Paranoia, it seems, had an ugly way of creeping into my head even during the quiet times. It had started back in Isilme, when the Cliffs had been entrusted into my care, though I had been little more than a soldier fighting for a place to stand in the herd. I was not used to bearing this weight of responsibility, and I found that it fit on my shoulders with a crushing sense of dread. Adalwulf, the stallion who had faced me during the first attempt to reclaim the land of the Pegasus, was a constant thread on my mind. Equine supremacy suited that warlord fine, but I was not about to bow to him.

Adalwulf was not the only looming figure, but a more immediate opponent, my own bastard son Cielo, would be the one to rise first. A clever wolf disguised in the skin of loyalty, he crept close to authority only to usurp my own when my own cruel detachment failed. Onni's presence in these lands should tell the story of my failure to be a heartless soul, but many did not know. Maybe I should have sacrificed my beloved daughter to save the Cliffs from their eventual destruction, but ultimately, in this new land, I could have no regrets, only the push of relief every time I saw her gentle, pale face.

These were reasons that I was not made of stone, but another more obvious reason would likely be the fiery temper that set me at odds with many. Mauja had tasted my fierce tongue, and Paladin had fallen victim to my tough scrutiny as well. I was passionate, and while unforgiving as stone, I found that I was more like the wind which could tear mountains down one grain of sand at a time, as long as I had enough determination to do so. Resolute, as my proudly worn title suggested, is what I truly was. There was perhaps no entity as stubborn as I in the whole of Helovia, and with this will I was determined to protect my family, those of the Throat.

It is upon sure wings that I do soar now, catching the almost uncertain call of my name in the air and clutching onto it, holding it still only to find its origin. My blue eyes scour down below, blonde mane whipping in a frenzy around my face and neck, until I spot the golden stallion down below, looking about curiously with his chocolate wings folded neatly on his back. I pull the wind abruptly, shifting my direction downward on steady wings, and pushing from behind to send me like an arrow to the ground. I cut the invisible strings for a moment, only to readjust them second before I collide with the red earth.

A buffet slows me so that I may stop gently upon the desert floor. It looks to be a miracle, but I know better.

"Hello Leander," I say steadily, walking toward him on sure feet. The earth was unfamiliar to me in comparison to the sky, but I found that you needed both the earth and the sky to be a successful warrior. Both arts were mastered so that I might be of better use in defending this home I loved with my heart and soul. "Is there something you needed?"
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