HEROES MAY DIE

Life had taken an unusual twist for the Friesian. A year ago, he would have been scouting the borders of Vallhea for any sign of tyranny, with Bran upon his back to assure they didn't miss anything. The pair had never been able to speak to one another, as they were simply unable to do so, but somehow, they always seemed to know what the other was feeling. The slightest tensing of the young man's alerted him that something was the matter, that danger was near, and they needed to move more carefully.

He supposed that his current tasks weren't much different. The only change was that he was without a cold bit in his mouth, or the weight of his precious boy upon his back. The shoes that had been nailed into his feet had fallen off since his arrival, muting his steps over rocky terrain. He still scouted the borders of hsi home, called the World's Edge instead of Vallhea. He had family now, all of the four legged variety, but much to the draft's dislike, he had yet to get to know them very well. He'd lost count how many times he'd yelled at himself for neglecting the task, so focused on getting to know the land he lived in better, as well as Tor, the pale draft that towered even higher than he, and who was carrying his child. Oh, how he could not wait for the day of it's arrival.

A peaceful day had taken claim on the land, with only the most gentle of salty sea breezes blowing and meandering through the tall trees strewn about. A few wispy clouds hung low in a brilliantly blue sky, and for once, one could find themselves almost forgetting the mists that often rolled throughout the rocky Edge. As Destrier moved at a calm walk, he took notice of all this, and somewhere within him, a peace was settled. Having just finished a quick sweep of the area, he looked forward to finally spending the rest of the day meeting his herdmates, getting to know his comrades on a more advanced level.

Drawing to a stop in what he guessed was the heart of the Edge, Destrier lifted his head high and let loose a call, beckoning any that could hear to come forth and speak with him. It was a gentle noise, not demanding in any way, shape or form, instead, a friendly request for company.

BUT LEGENDS ENDURE