All hail the outlaws
It almost seems like the last herd meeting had happened only yesterday—shouldn’t it be too soon to call them to gather once more?
Then again, the large stallion muses as he turns from the Edge’s borders, time has been all but nonexistent for him lately. The last several months are a blur, the days coming and going, only to pass into the abyss—a black hole that swallows any sense of time or direction. He has accomplished nothing since his most recent promotion, and while it is in his nature to roll it off his shoulders, Rohan can still hear his father’s voice burned into his mind: “You have failed yourself! You have failed me! And you have failed your people! You are a disgrace to this family!”
—Caught up in soft lips, glittering eyes, and blushing cheeks once again, falling too eagerly into the trap of his own reveries and ensnared by fantastical adventures, and the fatal promises of what-could-have-beens—
Despite his best attempts to convince everyone and himself otherwise, Rohan can’t quite shake the heaviness of failure from his shoulders. His father couldn’t (just couldn’t) have been right about him all along—the day such a tyrannical, cruel scoundrel proclaims the truth, will be the day this world crumbles and is swallowed by hell fire. If only the past didn’t cling to him like the bony claws of a vulture (but perhaps it is not his father’s disappointment that haunts him).
That is not a thought the Warlander is keen to entertain; with his thick tail lashing around his hocks, he urges himself into a canter. Pale hooves strike the packed, dry earth harder than is necessary, his stride gathered and tense. By the time he reaches those already gathered, sweat darkens his flanks and neck, with the lavender shade of their new canopy offering little relief. Being built for the colder climates of the north, this heat is seemingly unbearable for the hairy stallion; his irritation clutches to this annoyance, if only to distract him from more pressing problems.
“Speech.”
rohan
Lost souls in revelry, Running wild and running free.
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Big Ideas Have Small Beginnings [Herd Meeting]
