Kianzo

Small, black-rimmed ears still filled with remnants of foal-fuzz tilted back as she used his full name, wariness replacing his firmly confident demeanor once again. How did she know his name? While the colt did not hold the social brilliance of his sister, his young mind was still sharp it it’s own, darkly cruel way. And he did not recall ever meeting this copper colored woman. Beautiful faces stick in young minds—and hers had not.

Before he could stop himself, he instinctively took a step backwards as her green eyes locked wickedly with his. Though there had been no outright threats (which was odd, for with the dark princeling there usually were outright threats by now; either given or received), there was no denying the ominous cloud that fell over the this encounter, just as the sun's rays (that barely percolated through the mists and bamboo canopy) were falling beneath the horizon. “How do you know my name?” His question was demanding, but his young voice had lost some of its self-assurance.

At her use of the word ”boy”, his ears pinned flush with his skull and and he snorted indignantly. He was no mere ‘boy,’ he was a Prince. A Prince with magic—but only feeble amounts of ash puffed from his chest as he tried to throw it at the delicate woman to show her that he was nothing to be trifled with. His nostrils wrinkled in annoyance; even as his bright blue eyes took a prolonged and tired blink. He was too tired and had used too much magic with that skull-faced cow on the Flats to be able to use it again.

Perhaps if he had been less exhausted, the adrenaline from this foreboding exchange would have lasted longer—would have provided him with more mental acuity to threaten or barter or otherwise talk with the elegantly scarred mare. Alas, the young weanling was tried—nearly fully spent. So, with her scars nearly fully forgotten, he attempted to brazenly answer (though he was too tired to be entirely brazen) her invitation to sleep, “I’m not just a ’boy’. I can find my own place to sleep.”

And Kianzo, being Kianzo, could not simply accept the mare’s invitation to sleep beneath her dubiously ‘watchful’ gaze. So, with a snort and flick of his black-and-white tail about his hocks, he began to march right past her, much to his companion’s annoyance. Kesui yipped and snapped at his heels—but the dark prince ignored her, eyes searching for a proper place to rest his already heavy-lidded eyes.

———————

Dawn came, finding the colt curled in a tight ball and slightly shivering with the mists’ cool dampness. He had been mostly unsuccessful in finding a proper bed, and had resorted to curling into a alight alcove between bamboo rods. Though, despite it lacking the comfort and warmth of home, the exhausted youth had quickly slipped into a deep slumber. Keusi, likewise, curled her striped body around his head; but loud yips and laughs had punctuated her coma-like stupor. The colt’s sleep had been silent (it seemed Si made enough noise for their dreams for the both of them); though he never once woke from his raucous companion.