The stallion at his feet stirred, along with the memories that drifted about in the back of his mind. Like the slow dawning of the day upon the planet, the unicorn gradually returned to consciousness as the last fog of sleep was shaken from his eyes. At first, he seemed unaware of the creature standing above him; his blue eyes that were sheltered beneath a fine curtain of copper hair studied the ground beneath him for a moment before he seemed to realize he was not alone. A smile crept onto Murdock’s lips, which shortly broadened into a grin as the fine golden head was turned his way, and then tipped upward to reveal a wide pair of ice blue eyes.

His name was spoken softly, though not in a greeting or even a question. It seemed more of a statement, as if the unicorn was entirely unconvinced of this apparition that stood before him. The smile remained. “Silas,” he responded, a hint of laughter in his cheerful tone. Unbeknownst to him, his former ally no longer went by the title he had always known him to hold. It had been many seasons since their last meeting, and much had changed in each of their lives. He held the disbelieving gaze, enduring the incredulous stare of his long forgotten comrade for lengths of time that might have been considered rude or uncomfortable by others. He did not mind.

When finally Silas looked away to divert his attention to an itch, he noticed the blanket of flowers that had been bestowed upon him. With a faint smile, Murdock admired his artistic creation. The vibrant pinks and violets of the wildflowers blended perfectly with the backdrop of polished bronze, creating a myriad of colours much like the ones that had been seen in the sky that morning when the sun had finally risen. All around them was a lively symphony of colour that seemed to compliment their reunion, the sun bathing the clearing in pure, uninterrupted gold. After months of darkness, Murdock didn’t even want to allow himself to blink lest he open his eyes to find himself surrounded by shadows once more.

When Silas finally arrived at the conclusion that this stranger truly was his old friend, no doubt his decision enforced by the gift of flowers, Murdock nodded his head in affirmation. Though it had taken the General a moment to finally connect the face to the faded memory of his companion, he would have guessed that his own image was unmistakable. Few others shared the wildly curly hair or spindly legs that he had been gifted with, which no doubt gave him a striking appearance to match his personality. He stepped back as the unicorn rose to his feet. Flowers and stray petals poured off his back and tumbled through his hair, some catching in his silky mane.

Murdock shrugged off the questions that followed, dropping his gaze from his comrade’s face for a moment as if to allow himself a moment to think. He told himself his story had been unremarkable, but truly, much had occurred between their last meeting on the shores of Anorien to their present audience in the meadow. After that final goodbye, when they had sworn to meet again someday, he had returned to Evendim to his fleet and his family. There, he had been fortunate enough to receive two months of rest and the privileges of a war hero before disaster struck.

They were invaded by the southern fleet, the kingdom with the greatest numbers, though they weren’t as advanced as his family in the north. The battle waged for weeks, the members of the herd who could not fight fleeing underground to the caves for safety. It was a bloody sort of guerilla war, in which each warrior on both sides would mask their glowing markings beneath dark mud so as to be invisible at night. Murdock was cursed with pale wings, and so despite his attempts to camouflage, he was soon singled out in the sky.

He was chased for miles before a second group intercepted him, knocking him down to the rocky cliffs where he was beaten until his resolve cracked. His will to go on, to keep fighting, had at that moment been extinguished like the flame of a candle that had been snuffed out by the wind. He was imprisoned by the southern fleet, escorted back to their barbaric quarters where he was kept in a cave, away from the sunlight, for months. Perhaps that was why the disappearance of the sun and the beginning of the endless night had haunted him so; it had summoned memories of his captivity that he had long kept buried in the back of his mind. It was only when his captors began to get careless that he made his escape. He was unable to return home, though, for fear that it had been overrun. Anorien was also out of the question, as the southern fleet had many spies there. And so, fate had lead him south across the waters to Helovia.

“Searching for a better life,” he responded at long last, lifting his gaze from the flattened flowers where Silas had lay only a moment ago. “Shortly after returning from Anorien, my home was invaded and I was captured. I was held for months before finally making my escape. For lack of a better option, I ventured to the unknown and ended up here”. His face held little emotion despite the bitter memories that returned to him. That was all part of his past now, there was no use troubling himself over what he could not change. He had grown to accept it, and in doing so had allowed himself to forge a new beginning in a new land.

“I hope your story is a happy one. How did you come to be here?” It seemed strange to him that Silas would leave his home. After the conflict had been settled, Murdock could not imagine why his friend would desire to leave such a beautiful and peaceful place. In response to the unicorn’s second question, his shoulders rose slightly in a shrug. “Oh, everywhere. I wandered for a while. Stirred up some trouble. Found myself a place in a mercenary band and soon claimed the land known as the Foothills. The family has very much fallen apart in the absence of our original leaders, but we are hoping to build our strength.” He paused for a moment, unsure if he should dare unearth what could come to be a tense subject. “How are you liking the Basin?” He asked hesitantly as he breathed in the scent of the snow and ice off the stallion’s coat.

"talk talk talk"