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They seem surprised that we’re here; it’s fair, I guess, because they were up to the North not too long ago. However, it’s tradition for our herd to reach out to the others, even if the motives behind such are no longer that much of a ruse, so much as a tentative apology for the actions of my parents, and their friends. That I still harbored much resentment against those who answer our summons for simply being as they are is a direct consequence of the decisions that those who were supposed to teach me had made…
However, I am not an idiot, despite the fact that I can be foolish, more often than not. Living in a land like Helovia demands a few things of you; primarily, that you set your inhibitions aside. That you abandon the promise of all other Gods for these, because it was their world, and it didn’t matter what haven or paradise you had been promised, because this place would defy and challenge it. Life was too messy to cleave to foolish, old ideals, that meant nothing to no one but me, and even if it hurt to abandon my pride, to force myself to look at these hornless beings as equals, I would.
My mother had fled the land, too stubborn to let go of her dying ways. I would not do such a thing.
I am not a coward. Even if I have damned myself with my actions, and continue to damn myself now, I will do what I must for those I care for, even if most of them are dead, or have forever left me. I still have a few to look after. I still have a purpose here.
"Ah, you thought I was here to see you?" I smirk at my tall, equine friend, flashing a roguish (and perhaps inappropriate) wink at the blue splashed pegasus alongside him, and offering her a somewhat ridiculously flourished bow of my head, as well, "I’m afraid it was the Sultana I couldn’t bare another day without the sight of!"
Lena, of course, is much more focused on our true purpose, a veteran of this particular task. The first year, our invitation by almost all of the herds had been promptly rejected (Midas had lit the foal-painted leaf invites delivered to his herd land on fire, if my mother was to be believed), and things between the Basin and the Throat, in particular, had a history of getting as heated as the God which tended their desert land.
Nodding at her words, I look back to the leaders of the Throat.
"Kaos is still an issue, of course. I assume you’ve had patrols near the Marsh be attacked, as well?" I ask, with a nod, growing more serious, now that the topic requires it, "I guess there is always a risk these days, that Kaos will cause trouble, especially while everyone is otherwise distracted. However, I think it’s important to celebrate the fact that we have a home now, more than ever, and to show him that he has not done much more than make a really ugly statue in a festering wasteland."
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[O] sitting next to you [Basin Festival Invitations]
