The casual comment from the Sun God about how he and Megaera were family (of a sort) had a familiar constricting effect on his heart. Ampere had said the same thing, on the edges of Helovia where she had caught up with him, and Megaera called the Throat his home. It had started out as a place to escape the complicated history tied to the other herd lands and the desire to belong somewhere, to belong to a group where he could work and be useful. It had felt like nothing had changed since the day he had shown up, requesting permission to join from Gaucho, but he was wrong.

Or had been wrong, at least - he still felt like his membership in the herd was up for debate despite Megaera’s insistence that it was still home.

Although the question about discussing the matter in private was likely rhetorical - how do you argue with the Goddess? - he nodded his agreement that it would be best. The Sultana’s presence had become something of a security blanket during their journey here and he was hesitant to let her go but as she usually was (and always thought she was), his mother was right.

He turned to Megaera and upon noticing the look upon her face was quick to draw her attention away from the Moon Goddess with his quiet voice. “It’s okay, Megaera. I’m safe here.” Who would he hurt? His mother? She would be able to handle herself and him as well. And then he reached out to nudge her softly on the neck, whispering a quiet “Thank you.” as his muzzle neared her. “I’ll come find you soon, okay?” Being in the Veins had returned some sense of calm in him, which had been rare in the last season as he tried to outrun what had happened - finding small pockets of safety with new (and one old) friend. His pained face was softened with a faint smile as his silver eyes looked upon this friend, the one who had taken the time to bring him here.

But truly, he wasn’t sure he would find her after - he had already put her in jeopardy once, it would be beyond selfish of him to ask for more help than what she had given him already. He wouldn’t return to the Throat until he could control the shifting magic that had shattered everything he had been building. If it could be controlled. He still needed to find out if it could be done. That he was still a member of the herd, at least in the eyes of the Sultana and the Sun God, was enough to give him hope.

His silver gaze moved to that fiery god and a small nod given to him, thanking him for his presence, before he took a step toward his mother and gave his attention toward her - his silver eyes filled with hope. He assumed that by his little problem she had meant the uncontrollable shape shifting and he had enough faith in her that if there was a way to control it, she would know how.

we'll go over the mountains and under the stars