Sleep came easily to the babe, wrapped in a cloud of warmth beneath his fathers wing. Cold could no longer come and bit at thin legs and tiny breast when held close against the painted stallions side. It was an activity Cera deeply treasured, the simple act of dozing with him. Midas was often busy and tired upon return. The child never pouted or complained, but he never wished to awaken and bid his father goodbye once again. However the suns rays touched sleeping face and he stirred unhappily, wishing to hide away and drift back into the abyss of rest. It wasn't to be, as Midas calmed his movements and had sleepy emerald eyes fluttering open to greet the day. Yawning and sighing at having to awaken. "Good morning, Daddy." Tucking his head against strong shoulder for a long peaceful stretch of time. Broken only by the ringing, desolate summons of a voice Cera did not know well.

Sleep latched onto his legs like sap, refusing to let him go even as Midas slowly rose beside him. Cera whickered softly in complaint but followed the warmth, the shock of cold making him follow quickly. Stumbling along in his half awake state. Their leader? The babe didn't remember meeting her and couldn't even recall her name. He followed his fathers steps with slow stumbling gait, head low and eyes tired but excited. Midas' voice was coaxing and understanding, leading and urging him on as effectively as bumping him by muzzle would have been.

A few equines had already arrived when the pair approached. Cera watched his father dip his crown to the winged mare and awkwardly, innocently, did the same. Copying Midas to the best of his ability though he didn't understand the message of the movement itself. Sandy ears flickered up to catch soft words of names, matching them to previously unknown faces. Soft utterances stopped as the mare began to speak. Even as he slowly awakened Cera had to fight to pay attention, wanting to tune in like Midas. He knew, in the way a child knows its cousins instinctively, that the herd had grown. Not because he knew them personally but because the land was louder. Conversations took place more frequently. Bodies dotted the horizon in greater numbers.

Despair came over his soft face when told they should only travel in pairs. Cera had few friends, and when Midas left for his duties Cera often went exploring to the Threshold. That was how he'd met Wanyecha, a friend he deeply treasured. Looking up to see the stern and pointed look of his fathers visage. Eyes sad but nodding slowly and silently, returning to their leader. However even his perseverance of silence was broken in a tiny almost soundless noise of protest. He doubted anyone excluding Midas could have caught it. She wished to increase training and patrol? Cera already saw so little of his father! It hurt deep inside to know Midas would be around even less, but he didn't dare raise his voice or attract attention. Ears dropped pitifully and wings sagged.

This didn't last long. Slowly perking up as she mentioned Bazilisk. An Artisan? Cera had sworn they didn't have one! He was an apprentice with no mentor after all. The colt was thrilled by the idea of building. Building! A wall! Crafting! Little hooves couldn't contain his excitement as he danced on the spot, trying to keep quiet. Said Artisan spoke up, a giant snake that Cera instantly admired. If he could work craft then Cera would do anything to learn from him. Turning pleadingly to Midas, excitedly tugging on his mane with his lips. "Daddy! Daddy! I want to build! I want to help!" Whispering urgently but quietly, eyes alive with passion at the mere thought. And he could also contribute to the herd, like Midas! Cera was simply overflowing with excited energy.

A few other words followed that Cera didn't understand as well. Quickly bowing his head when Midas did, confused by the passively disapproving look on his face. Waiting eagerly for the meeting to end so that he could rush to Bazilisk and beg to be taught the ways of building and constructing. And perhaps sleep a bit more...