CASSIUS❃


Cassius can tell this is not starting well, not as well as he had hoped. He holds back a flinch when the stranger dips his head, the glint of his horn casting an insidious reminder of its prowess. He fails to realize he has one as well, but it is beyond the stallion to use solely for bloodshed. There is a part of him that wishes to cower and admit defeat, turn his back to the one who clearly doesn’t want any part of what they want to offer. And scurry back from the caves and mountains he’d journeyed from.

I want to live, is the vile, small and squeamish voice wriggling in his heart. I will live, he tries to reassure himself. Stepping uneasily back from his original place on the floor. And settling a few more steps away in caution. Steadying his limbs that will spring away, if the spark truly hits – and the mad man is after them. He sends a wary glance to the other unicorn beside him. The tail behind the man is twitching in discomfort. Finally, the grey finds his voice, and it cracks uneasily into the open.

“Aye… You… you have entered Helovia.” He repeats Sacre, albeit his words are slower and pointed. Unsure if any of what they were saying was really sticking. “This place here, that you’ve entered… it’s the only gate into these lands. Where all strangers alike pass through – we call it the Threshold.” He lets out a steady sigh, pluming in a smoke of heat in the cool temperature.

Cassius can only hold his tension for so long. It shows in the creases of his brows, and the stiffening of his lips as he casts his careful gaze on the stranger. “And that is why we are here. To offer respite, a possible home, a new life to those who pass through.” He bites the inside of his mouth, finding it hard to concentrate when his heart is racing underneath his skin, and his senses are heightening to the lands around him. He can hear other footsteps in the distance – pulling his ears into different directions now and then. Would the stallion make to hurt them? He can’t tell just yet, but he remains at the ready.

“If you wish neither of these, then let us know. And we will bid you goodbye, if you’d rather travel these lands alone…” Not that he had the authority – he couldn’t quite believe he’d just said that. And resisted the urge to step away a second time. He glanced back at Sacre, imploring him with a gaze to see if he’d said too much. Before settling back to the horn – the tip and edges of the blade he cannot stop himself from staring at any longer.

“I hail from the Aurora Basin, a land of ice and snow to the North. Sacre – to the World’s Edge… There is rest, food and shelter.” With an audible sigh, the stallion moves his gaze to the cold, raggedy glare of the stranger. “Do you have a name at least?”

The stranger would do well as a soldier, considering…