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»› C A S S I U S ‹«
The stallion nods cordially when given her appreciation. He supposes that’s one thing an apostle can do; share information. It isn’t something the man covets. Nay, he covets very little and doesn’t see much worth in the material things these days.
As for Glasgow’s experiences with the gods, Cass offers a more noticeable smile. “That’s more than likely. I almost forgot it was the Gods who gave out magic in the first place…” His brows knit together. Uncertain if he’s already asked this question. “In this world, the Gods are the source of Helovia’s magic aren’t they?”
He gives a brief pause, filled with his musings. “I wonder if it’s possible to disconnect a god from their magic. Make them sick… in a way. Or weak.” He’d have to look back into history if such a thing occurred. And he already knew so little. The stallion shrugs. “That would be hard to find out or test in any case. I can't imagine any of them would be very happy about that.” He laughs briefly, and ducks his head in a playful gesture. Gazing up at the sky for safe measure.
The bit about the Rift Gods is enough to keep Cassius’ curiosity aglow. He knows very little of the logic behind magic. Despite having lived in a world that praised those who possessed the arts.
“Interesting... I wonder if there’s more behind the illnesses. What they were like, how they were obtained. From my experiences, disease has a nasty tendency of hopping from one person to another. But if you contain it…” His voice trails off. Before picking up momentarily. “Fewer deaths I suppose.”
With a quiet hum he led them out from the Heavenly Fields. Back to the ice kingdom, to his new home – where strangers of all shapes and sizes resided. Perhaps he wasn’t putting himself out there enough?
Or perhaps the prospect of quiet, and calm, appealed to him. With a warm and melodious hum, he recalled old and weathered songs that filled the steady silence.
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The ground progressively became harder, the air cooler. Sooner than he expected, Cassius stopped between the Sentinels that marked the Basin’s entrance.
“Well, here we are.”
He offered a brief smile. “I’m not at liberty to officially invite herd members, but I highly doubt they’d cast you aside.” Warm, honeyed eyes shifted back into the herd. And not long after that he cast his voice in a call – hoping to gain the attentions of someone important. Or qualified, for that matter…
It wasn’t as if Glasgow screamed highly suspicious and ill fitted for herd life. She wanted change, a new start perhaps – and Cass could respect that. But the thoughts of the Basin’s most recent death prevent the stallion from smiling at that moment. He glances back to the mare, with a slightly strained expression. Ears twitching.
“Uhm… I didn’t want to tell you this earlier. I wasn’t sure if I should. But now…,” he would feel stupid and selfish for not telling her. So it was now or never.
“Lord Deimos passed away late Frostfall… He was mourned by many.” It’s strange to be speaking about a person he hardly knew. Knowing that he’d meant so much to those who resided in the Basin. He felt inherently detached from it all, besides having experienced death himself. It was hard to tell how the mare might take it, death never made sense – even when it was expected.
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