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04-19-2013, 11:57 PM
 Vadim I've lost myself somewhere along the way Pale cloven hooves carry an equally pale body from the outskirts of the Edge toward the Foothills. The young stallion's journey is a slow one, as he has no reason to rush. There is no puppet master pulling his strings and rushing him headlong into something he does not completely understand or agree with. He is alone now with no one to answer to but himself and no one to speak with but he prefers it that way. It makes him feel as if he's his own stallion and not someone else's project. The slightest twinge of guilt gnaws at his gut as he thinks of his brother as the puppet master that pulled his strings for so long before finally disappearing. Was it his sudden disappearance that finally opened his eyes, the stallion wonders yet he knows that that particular reason is partly true. Vadim's hooves come to rest when he is several paces across the border of the Foothills. He knows he's crossed into their territory and yet he remains where he is, seemingly unconcerned with his trespass. His knowledge of the Foothills is very basic, having left at such an early age in a quest for magic with his brother and never returning. Even then he heard of the constant changing of leads and knows now that it is a militant mercenary group that resides. He knows that the Chieftesses are Ophelia and Ktulu, his very own sisters, one of whom he'd only seen once when he was but a brash foal living in the forest and the other only knowing that she looks like his father. Good sense tells the stallion that he should turn and leave, but the stubbornness he's inherited from both of his parents makes him plant his hooves firmly in the lush grass of the Foothills. Should he speak, he wonders. Should he call to them and tell him that he's here, or should he remain silent? Silence has always been his closest ally because he has never been one for words. Why is he even here? Does he really care to see his sisters? No, he doesn't think he is. They've never been concerned with their younger siblings. He doesn't even think he wants to join their ranks and yet he stands there motionless. Waiting. For what, he doesn't know and yet he waits. A puppet with no master to guide him. |
Icon by Tay
