Like the branches that grow into an old tree’s canopy or the many streams that channel into a river, paths lead hither and thither, all though the long valley. Over the course of (nearly) three weeks, he has ventured along many of them, finding at each end a lake, a sentinel (two actually), or more commonly the sheer, unfriendly face of a cold rock wall.

As dawn breaks above the sharp, snowy peak of the far eastern range, a shaft of rich sunlight descends to soak the basin’s opposite edge; the grove of old pines that Noah prefers to huddle with (he is too claustrophobic for caves), is engulfed, warmed, and easily the dozing stallion is pulled from his rest.

The dove grows bolder by the day. She explores when they are not together (though seldom that is), and he finds himself on these occasions, with little else to do but wander. Blonde lashes part slowly at the summons of brightness, to reveal the groggy turquoise glow beneath and out of habit his face turns to view the small den in the distance, that generally keeps her. He is instantly surprised to find that her body is already missing from the dark blur of crevice - a brisk snort sounds and he proceeds to stretch the night’s stiffness from each wing and leg, in turn.

The grass is damp beneath his bold, heavy stride, and soon the decoration of thick, ivory plume about each hoof is soaked through - soon to be sludge as he aims for a path that will carry him further north than the lake. Already the inhabitants of this secretive basin were hustling and bustling, moving about the business he knew nothing about; part of him preferred it that way, he’d not encountered someone pleasant (memory of the Songbird and the bay grew hazy), for all the time spent about the place. If they ignored him passing by, so did he take no notice of them; however the few that threw forth a look of kindness received the same back tenfold.

He walked for a solid time, searching the spots for the dove that he’d before seen her mulling; yet at no point did she appear.

By and by, he came upon the strange structure that had avoided his concern during previous trips this way. It was a large (though equivalent to nothing he had experienced before) and strangely enclosed by… whiskers brushed the unsettling, translucent surface, but recoiled instantly and he drew backward to behold it. “What in the…” came the perplexed response, and he glanced both left and right along its length, before noting a deviation in the wall - a frame perhaps, which served to suggest that an inside did really exist behind it.

Quietly he slithered towards it, cautious should their be any others nearby, but before the chance came for him to investigate any deeper, a voice erupted in the trees to the rear. Partly panicked and appearing unnecessarily suspicious, he spins clumsy across giant hindquarters to meet the visitor, head on. “Hello?” …he calls as smoothly as possible, swiftly assuming a cooler, more inconspicuous, pose should the other linger and give him the opportunity.

Noah

See the line where the sky meets the sea
It calls me...