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»› C A S S I U S ‹«
The sun has fallen, hours ago. The night unveils the stars that shower the sky, littering the canvass with clusters swirling in particular patterns. Twinkling from a midnight backdrop, endless, unknown to those who could not reach beyond the atmosphere. Cassius is mesmerized in the quiet. Lost to the quiet wind, content – for the time being – to watch soundly within the Edge’s heart.
The stallion’s breath rolls forward in puffs of heavy smoke. His silver tail undulates by habit, though it lacks the twitchiness of an anxious soul. He is recounting his times spent watching the night sky. Remembers the lonely road, and the memories that followed his wake. They did not embrace him as they did then; when the escape from his homeland was fresh and raw, and his guilt had brought him to tears. Saturated his soul with cowardice.
He does not know how he was able to move further than what his sobs allowed him. How his pathetic moans avoided the scouts, who must have been sent to bring him back. Somehow he escaped, but not in the grandest of ways. He slithered his way out of the kingdom, wretched and saturated by the faces of his friends.
“Here we are,” he murmurs sadly. Yearning for a voice, a sign of his existence in this world. And there it was, escaping him – drifting into the oblivion. The elegant stallion shook his head, snapped his eyes shut – briefly – before he searched the surrounding grounds about him.
Where are they? He inquires. Where is my new family? Sequestered in these hills, locked away in the permafrost… A weak laugh escapes him. His eyes are heavy – not from thought, rather, from the old wounds that cease to be healed. They manage to heal just enough to be closed – for a season – before they unfurl their progress and hang open. They require time, he soothes. They will come around, they will forgive me, they will forget me…
He swallows the small lump in his throat, and tosses his head. Causing the silk he has for hair to haphazardly spill whichever way. The young stallion lifts his head, his nose, and eager to catch wind of any old scent that passes by, he takes the first one he can find. Long limbs take their cue, he’s on a mission, he’s secretly desperate to pass the time with someone – anything to keep his mind occupied. The wounds he leaves, ignored for the time being, have lent their pain long enough that they are dull and weak throbs that ebb into his bones. Should he really consider their presence, the tethers that bind him to his past, he fears he might fall a part.
Cassius simply didn’t have the patience, or the time to consider their purpose. Not yet, anyways.
On he went, following the wavering scent – trailing behind it like a lost dog. He’d come across someone sooner or later. Or whoever trailed along these paths, alone and witness to the worlds that showered above them.
Cassius’ honeyed voice inevitably entered the world as he continued his pursuit. Humming all the while, something quaint, something old and ancient that brought an unyielding comfort to the gray.
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