Every so often, as he leads north from the borderline – a safe distance beyond those awful, iron statues – the painted-eagle returns his thoughtful eyes back to the alabaster woman. No sign of discomfort creases the brow beneath her forelock, and neither does she seem to hesitate as the residents of the valley pause their business to stare at the (once loathed), birds in their midst; he nary acknowledges them, for he is yet to find peace in  this frigid land. When the narrow trail he is following forks abruptly, the stallion pauses to note, “there are winds that render our heavens inaccessible above this valley, the only way in or out is that pass...” nares flare around a heavy sigh, and he gestures for a second, back the way they had come.

As he continues thereafter quietly down the route that should see them to the lake, a sudden flurry of movement ahead prompts him to pause with wings unfurling and thighs clamping tight in anticipation; she sweeps down across cool, dewy grass at a great rate of knots, willowy ribbons of hair streaming, framing the chiselled curves of her small, sophisticated face, and Noah’s lurching heart fills to the brim with a chorus of whining insects. "Nora," honeyed tones croon as the warmth of her skin collides into his tender embrace. Though he has only been apart from her three nights – it feels to him like an eternity - his caring, discerning eye perceives an even rounder girth than before. Into the soft, fragrant waft of her mane he hums gently, concernedly, “are you both well?” Without reserve his lips fuss affectionately across that thickening brown canvas, cleansing it of dried spur and seed.

After a time, his eyes seek the scarlet gaze of the newest to Basin. "Sweetheart, this is Zona, we met in the Threshold," he reveals easily, undertone suggesting the depth of their blossoming bond, while a courteous smile feeds through the small space between the couple and she. "Zona, this is Nora who I was telling you about." Placing a quiet kiss upon the cheek of his lover, the eagle unwraps himself from around her tiny frame – there would be time for fonder rekindling, tonight, beneath a moment of sweet solitude (he certainly look forward to it). Not long after, the shady silhouette of a horned-one wanders forward; Noah recognizes the golden-eyed stallion instantly.

"Lord Rikyn, Duir…" the watching eagle responds modestly to the very pleasant greeting. Turquoise pools dance around that spiralling spike, brazenly searching for the droll wit which had flanked their very first introduction. Though he had seen the other here and there in the valley of cold, their paths were only now crossing for the second, ever, time. "I was asked to bring a recruit from the Threshold. Conveniently, Zona here was looking for a home." Enormous feathers fidget above the slow rise and fall of his barrel. He could only presume that she would be welcome to stay, and so ignored the thought to ask; instead, he put forward a compliant expression and asked,  "...is there another assignment you would have me complete?"

Noah

I was born a warrior
I was born a warrior