The sun rises, just as it does any other day except it takes time for its warmth to spread; heating the ground and everything else with it far slower than it did merely a week ago. The cooler and far more pleasant temperatures are a welcome change from the practically unbearable heat of this past Tallsun. Yet, the change in temperature doesn't just signify a new season; it also marks the arrival of the odd-eyed boy's first birthday. Somehow, Caine has managed to survive. Despite his father... no, scratch that... sperm donor disappearing after the day he and his twin sister were born. And despite his mother running off to the mainland with the hopes of some sort of purpose or whatever it was that she was doing. Somewhere deep down in a place he barely even acknowledges, he misses them. He'd sooner argue that the worst disappeance of all was that of his twin sister than to admit that he cares about the disappearance of his parents. On the surface, though, he's brimming with independence and compensating for his loneliness with an overabundance of confidence. Hell, he doesn't need any of them anyhow. Or does he?

The island had been fairly quiet of late, offering just enough shelter from the hurricanes plaguing the southern oceans for a yearling colt to survive. And with the onslaught of hurricane season, there'd been fewer visitors for him to hide from - peering at them from the bushes or from the relative safety of the trees like some sort of curious wild boy. Like Mowgli, except he's a horse with wings instead of a human boy. Caine remained on the island, never finding any desire to leave the only place he's ever known (and though he wouldn't likely ever admit it, the biggest reason is because he still hasn't learned to fly and swimming across was a definite no go). By now, the colt was intimately familiar with the Riptide Isles. His hooves had explored every inch he could possibly find, and as the seasons ticked by it wasn't just his outward appearance that changed and developed - his eyesight also grew stronger. By his first birthday, his ability to track things with his eyes had improved drastically. He could finally track moving things without getting sore eyes or blurred vision. Maybe it was a good thing his sperm donor missed the odd-eyed boy's first year. Surely his small defect would have been the center for endless disappointment and feelings of inadequacy that would undoubtedly result in a strained relationship built on a foundation of contempt.

Caine meandered about the Isles - each and every day was the same; the same trees, the same bushes, the same monotonous shades of green and brown and blue. Nothing changed, nothing shifted. And, perhaps the most noticeable, he saw neither hide nor hair of his parents or sister. At this point, the colt presumed them to be gone for good and unless he somehow taught himself to fly, odds are he'd die on this island - alone, just as he'd been for so much of his life. It's a funny little predicament, really. It's almost as though he doesn't really exist.

A soft, though fairly sarcastic, chuckle escapes his lips at the notion as eyes of teal and silver scan the open shoreline of his home. The winds were calmer this morning than they'd been lately and though that typically led to more visitors, the shore and sky had been oddly quiet and empty. With only a little hesitation, the colt slips from his safe place amongst the trees to wander the shore. The boy holds his rather large, sleek wings to his sides with the hope that the feathers would add a little extra bulk to his otherwise lean frame. He relies on this particular deceit in an attempt to avoid physical confrontations (gods only know he'd lose if it ever came down to pure brute strength). So the boy is vigilant as he moves along the shoreline, his dual-toned gaze ever watchful for a potential threat.