All about the world was hushed, muffled by the thick depths of snow and darkness of night. Yet though silent, all was not still. A sun moves through the night. A golden son.  

In the dead of winter’s night the Laurelin returns to Helovia, his steps turning silent once more as he crosses the border. For it, a smile grows on his lips. His time spent beyond this land were not exactly enjoyable, the feeling doubled for the lack of his success. A dark shadow before him pauses before a growth of pines, and the gold stallion takes note. His earth eyes watching Haldir carefully. The dark stag had joined him on his little venture without much protest. The last month in this land had held more feelings than either cared to suffer. A break, even for a failed mission, was worth it.

”Keep watch” A dark ear flicks back, the only sign it heard, as it moves through into the pines. Once it goes the Laurelin reaches back to the satchel under his wolf cloak. Its reminders of the north pressing him. Perhaps they had needed a break…but only from some things… His mind hitches to think of the frozen mountains towering above this pine forest. Perhaps he could not see them in the night, but he could feel them. Yes he needed to get away. To escape the cesspit of mud he found here, but there was one diamond in that rough, one precious gleaming light he so sorely missed over the weeks. The golden, brought to grief for missing someone. A rare occurance.

As they’d moved closer back to this world, the pendant around his next had grown colder and colder. Perhaps in this weather it shouldn’t be noticeable but its freezing touch was colder than the artic wind could force. The gold perhaps didn’t understand this small charm completely, but he’d felt her’s hot against him. Whatever caused this temperature in it he certainly was going to find out. His heart felt the limitations of guilt on its happiness of the thought of seeing her. It had been some time… And perhaps there might even be an apology on his lips waiting for her (truly a rare thing knowing him). Yet with every night he’d soothed himself to sleep with the thoughts of her warmth against his that chilly morning. Perhaps she’d be angry. Perhaps she’d bite his head off. But whatever it was that held them together, that linked them that day, he knew it was just as addicting for her as it was for him. (The possibility of her sadness was not so easily dispelled. Her anger he could face, her sadness was another entirely. A blade felt so hot on his neck, he was forcing himself to walk through the world without thought of it, or be lost in its arresting grasp forever) Or so he thought…he’d test that theory soon enough…right after…

Teeth grip the leather wrapped blade and steel sounds as he unsheathes the old piece. A cold blade flashes in the night as he lets it fall gently to the snow. It was with some bitterness he let it. That object, though prized, and gleaming with possibilities, also had sent him out of Helovia to begin with. His search for Kianzo. Funny, he had started that quest with such eagerness, now it was so frustrating it was personal. Into the blade he had looked when first given the task. It had shown him a darkness, and shapes unrecognized. In confusion he sought out the location beyond the borders, and in foolishness he was now returning. For once beyond the walls of this land, the magic, all magic had ceased. Irritatingly. Now, the blade would have a chance to redeem itself. “The watching shift goes ever on,” came the whispered words, and the blade shivered and revealed.

Its pictures were jumbled, first showing this land, then one of red waters. Still the gold kept moving, searching till- at last- a glimmer of gold and cream catches his eye. Tasseled tail curled with excitement, as his cloven hoof slightly shifts the blade to look about. Walls of green. A flash of copper. All surrounded in a mist. The corners of his lips curl. He knew that land. Grabbing the blade he returns it to his sheath. It was so simple he was almost insulted at fate. All this time he’d searched, and the colt had been right under his very nose, under his roof. Well all the better. Though the maze of the green labyrinth kept most away, that was precisely why it drew the golden in. He’d learned those walls in his time there and knew every nook and cranny. He would find the colt. He would see dear Rexanna’s heart kept from the darkness that threatens her, and he would see any who thought to haunt her nightmares pay in their blood.

Earth eyes turn to move on, when a shiver runs down his spine, and not from the cold. Golden harks lift and his crowned head rises. Perhaps it was a night crawler. Perhaps it was Haldir. A grin grows on his lips. Or perhaps something more.


OOC::

"speech"