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the happy ending depends, of course...
Leaving the Lord of frozen mountains and death behind, he was glad to have Johnny’s brightly peppermint presence to himself. The strain of being diplomatic, of being a proper King, slipped away as he led the genuinely cheerful man deeper into the Edge. Mbwene trundled behind them, happily tucking Jellybean’s fluffy self behind her ear on her neck.
Tembovu’s sweeping strides carried them by memory to the place he had in mind for the tent, while his eyes glanced from the misted trees to the bright green eyes of the man walking beside him. Nostrils were flared, forever taking in the pleasant scent of peppermint that pervaded the air around the red and white stallion, before his mind turned to his own time as crafter for the Edge.
Black rimmed ears perk, navy eyes sparking with curiosity. He had seen Anzanie, once, craft an item with the Moon’s magic. But it hadn’t taxed her the way it had drained and drowned him in darkness. He wondered if another crafter ever felt such overwhelming power when they created things.
“When you craft,” he began to question the Basin Weaver, “How does it feel? The power from the Basin’s patron— does it overwhelm you?” His head cocked as he realized how strange his question sounded once voiced aloud when, in his head, it sounded perfectly appropriate.
He chuckled and shook his skull as they slowly grew nearer to the place where Johnny would create a tent for the Edge. “It’s just past this clump of trees,” he offered, his low rumble breaking the stillness of the mists. The tent would be near their freshwater source, so that it was easy for the herd to find at first. He nodded to himself as the pond came into view.
Tembovu’s sweeping strides carried them by memory to the place he had in mind for the tent, while his eyes glanced from the misted trees to the bright green eyes of the man walking beside him. Nostrils were flared, forever taking in the pleasant scent of peppermint that pervaded the air around the red and white stallion, before his mind turned to his own time as crafter for the Edge.
Black rimmed ears perk, navy eyes sparking with curiosity. He had seen Anzanie, once, craft an item with the Moon’s magic. But it hadn’t taxed her the way it had drained and drowned him in darkness. He wondered if another crafter ever felt such overwhelming power when they created things.
“When you craft,” he began to question the Basin Weaver, “How does it feel? The power from the Basin’s patron— does it overwhelm you?” His head cocked as he realized how strange his question sounded once voiced aloud when, in his head, it sounded perfectly appropriate.
He chuckled and shook his skull as they slowly grew nearer to the place where Johnny would create a tent for the Edge. “It’s just past this clump of trees,” he offered, his low rumble breaking the stillness of the mists. The tent would be near their freshwater source, so that it was easy for the herd to find at first. He nodded to himself as the pond came into view.
...on when you end your story.
Continuation of this for @Johnny to craft a tent for WE!
I hope it's okay for Mbwene to PP Jellybean. If not I can change it!
Please tag Tembovu.
